


Naruto: Rise of the Saibankan

by owochimaru



Category: Naruto
Genre: BAMF Orochimaru (Naruto), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Gaara is awkward, M/M, Mission Fic, Multi, Original Antagonist, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Slow Build, Slow Burn, kankuro is a great brother, orochimaru kind of kicks ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owochimaru/pseuds/owochimaru
Summary: (Following Naruto: the Last & prefacing Boruto)A potential threat arises when several ninja go missing from their villages, and the Kage host a meeting to discuss the possibility of a newer, rogue group formation. Eleven of the five nation’s finest ninja are sent out on a mission to unfold this sudden mystery, only to be met with what could be one of the most concerning problems in their history.Gaara lays down his title as Kazekage to join this mission, and attempts to learn some positive habits from one specific bushy-browed person along the way. Somehow, though, when it comes to Rock Lee, you always get more than you bargained for.
Relationships: Akimichi Chouji/Karui, Gaara/Rock Lee, Inuzuka Kiba/Kankurou, Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick A/N: I’ve watched Naruto since I was a kid and have rewatched it twice since then, but even still I had to do SO MUCH research just to write this and make it happen. That being said, I don’t own Naruto or any of its characters, nor do I own anything else in this story, just the plot line and the names of maybe five OCs. I’ve been working on it for a minute so I do hope you enjoy it! xx

The sun beamed down on the Village Hidden in the Leaves as Gaara stepped through its gates.He’d grown so used to this place that the buildings reflecting the light onto him came as no surprise, and it was all but instinctual that he tilted his hat to cover the top portion of his eyes. The voice that spoke to him next was equally as unsurprising; he was almost accustomed to it by now.

“Lord Kazekage, Kankurō, you guys look like you’ve had a decent trip. We’re glad you made it here safely.”

Just to the left in the shade stood Shikamaru Nara, not looking too bothered by anything, but not looking too pleased, either. He approached them after a stretch and a yawn, accepting Gaara’s nod and Kankurō’s little ‘hmph,’ as a signal to step forward. They’d communicated more than normal, the three of them, as of late; with Temari being engaged to him and expecting his child, it was practically unavoidable. He was intelligent moreso than lazy, Temari had always told her siblings that was the reason she was so attracted to him, and both Naruto Uzumaki himself and his sister always spoke very highly of him regardless of his constant complaints. Gaara, for one, was indifferent to the news of a new potential nephew/niece; he didn’t quite understand romance and the like, but Temari seemed happy, and that was enough for approval from him. Kankuro, however, was a bit of a different story. He didn’t necessarily hate Shikamaru, probably didn’t even dislike him, but he was relatively protective over his older sister, Gaara had learned, and wasn’t quite as indifferent to seeing the leaf ninja as Gaara was. 

“Shikamaru,’ Kankurō replied with a bit of an edge to his tone, not quite sarcasm but just below the base of it, “or should I start calling you little brother already?”

A little blush painted Shikamaru’s face, but he ignored the comment. “How is she?”

Kankurō was ready to respond, but Gaara decided to cut him off short, “Temari is fine. You’ll be living together soon; I suspect we’ll all be seeing each other more often.” He shot a glare back to his brother, “Which means that yes, by law, Kankurō, Shikamaru will be your brother.”

The older man simply grunted in response.

Shikamaru took the silence following as an opportunity to change the topic. “Lord Kazekage, if I may—”

“Gaara. You don’t have to address me fomally here.”

“Right,” he continued, “Gaara. Anyway, Lord Hokage has requested you two at his office as quickly as possible. Between you and me, I think it’s serious. I’ve got a bad feeling something hasn’t been right lately. It’s  too quiet around here. You know how it is, all peace and serenity, everyone’s happy, kids are running around playing and everything else, and then something bad happens and then the next thing we know the village is in shambles. I advise you guys to tread as carefully as possible on your way to the office and on your way back to Suna. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I never trust silence.”

The Kazekage thought on it for a moment, sighed and then nodded, “Thank you,” before continuing forward. Somehow, he had a bad feeling, too. 

\--

When Gaara walked into Kakashi Hatake’s office, he was expecting a bunch of paperwork strewn about (which he found), but was not, however, expecting a sudden seemingly meeting of the Five Kages, nor was he expecting to see the several other unrecognizable Mist, Stone, and Cloud ninja standing around the room as though they had all been anticipating his arrival. He looked around to see if his close friend Naruto Uzumaki, was in sight, and was rather disappointed when he couldn’t spot the yellow-haired man anywhere. He didn’t know what to say upon entering, and Kankurō seemed at first awed at the aspect of even being allowed in the room at all. Awkward was the only word Gaara could think of to describe the feeling, especially when he met eyes with the sixth Hokage himself.

“Lord Kazekage,” Kakashi began, “We’re glad you made it.” His eyes closed and he smiled behind his mask, “We were worried something might have happened on your way into Konoha.”

Kankurō, surprisingly, was the first person to respond, his voice light-hearted, “No need to fear, Lord Hokage, my little brother has all the protection he needs with me around to keep him safe.” 

Nobody even smiled. 

Kakashi ignored him. “I would have explained to you what was happening before you got here, but I’m afraid that, due to  _circumstances_ ,” there was a sharp emphasis to that word when Kakashi said it that made Gaara wary; Shikamaru was right, “This meeting is top secret. Or as top secret as it can be with everyone here, here.”

In the silence following, Gaara walked more into the room and stood beside the other Kage. He was still a bit shorter than Mei, who was a lot older than he last remembered her, and far shorter than A— though he felt shorter in that moment than anyone else in the room. He briefly wondered if this meeting had anything to do with him, or Temari, or anyone else in Suna. For a reason unbeknownst to him he felt an unfamiliar sense of guilt. 

“As you were the last to arrive,” Kakashi continued, “I’m just going to get right into it. Over the past few months I’ve received information that scrolls are being transported in and out of the five hidden villages without consent, and nobody knows why. The ninja carrying the scrolls are all unidentifiable and none of them have been found upon their disappearance. Lord Kazekage, have you— or perhaps even Kankurō— witnessed anyone leaving your village, as well?”

“I don’t concern myself with politics,” Kankurō responded. It was honestly hard to believe, Gaara thought, that he didn’t get along with Shikamaru so well; they had almost too much in common. 

The gazes in the room fell on Gaara. He tried to rack his brain to remember if any patrolmen had come to him about anything recently, but couldn’t find anything. “No,” he finally replied, “I haven’t heard or seen anything.” Another silence filled the room, the gazes turned to Kakashi, who was very clearly thinking about what to say next. When he spoke again, the tension in the atmosphere doubled.

“Sasuke Uchiha contacted the village about a week ago,” the Hokage started, carefully, “he told me a group of rogue ninja were headed north of the old Sound village. If what I’ve gathered is correct, this could be the process of another, potentially very dangerous formation of a band of ninja created to destroy our villages. It could also very well be smugglers, runaways— this could be anything. Which is why we have classified this as an S-Rank mission. We don’t know anything about what is happening here, which is why we need to be prepared for anything.

With that said, I’ve called this meeting to gather each of the villages’ strongest and most intelligent ninja, these rogues could very well be people you know or people you’re elementally prepared for in combat. If this is a threat, we need to stop it before it spreads. If it is not, we need to find out what it is regardless.”

Mei Terumi, who stood just beside Gaara, was the first person to speak. “I completely agree. Chōjūrō is my choice for this mission, on behalf of the Mist,” the Mizukage gestered to a man with blue hair across the room, who turned pink at the mention of his name. Gaara recognized him instantly as one of the great Seven Swordsmen; he’d heard Naruto mention before that he was alongside him during a fight against Zetsu. For someone so powerful and elite, he stood there awkwardly like a teenager in the corner, blushing for Mei. It baffled Gaara. “I promise he will not disappoint. He did cut Zetsu in half, you know.”

“Good. Lord Raikage?”

“Karui of team Samui,” A said, his voice rumbling next to Gaara’s ear, “She is the strongest kunoichi in my Village, she has assisted me in many combats and I’m certain she’ll be very useful in this mission.” Gaara scanned the room to see the yellow-eyed konoichi beaming at A from her position next to Omoi, who looked a little defeated (presumably out of jealousy, perhaps, that she was chosen rather than him). She seemed a bit too eager for the mission at hand, then again, maybe she was just grateful for the praise. 

“Very well. Lord Tsuchikage?”

The small old man was silent for a moment. He looked dismayed at the idea of sending one of his own out on a mission at first, but eventually he grunted, “Ittan, if there’s any time to prove how much you value other nations, the time is now.”

Ittan. The name was unfamiliar, but the face that looked up wasn’t— Gaara recognized him from the speech he had give to his unit im the war so long ago. He had stopped him from getting into a fight with another ninja. It was odd to see him again now, in a small space with smaller tension, but he did not seem fazed by Ōnoki’s proposal. In fact, he seemed determined. It made Gaara feel  different somehow, it was almost as though, maybe, his words those years ago had actually resonated with him.

“The time is now,” Ittan agreed, “I am grateful for this opportunity.”

Kakashi then turned directly to Gaara, his tone something that the Kazekage couldn’t quite recognize. “Lord Kazekage. You brought with you Kankurō, are you sure he is capable of this sort of mission? I would have asked for Temari to accompany him if not for—“

“Are you saying I’m weak?” Kankurō interrupted, clearly offended. “Sorry, Lord Hokage, but I’m capable of anything. I’m the master of damn puppets! I do more than just pull strings, you know.”

“If one of these rogue ninja is from Suna, then you will not be able to pull off close range combat,” Kakashi responded. “Your puppets—“

Gaara spoke before thinking, “Then I’ll go with him.”

Silence filled the room again. The tension thickened. Kakashi looked shocked. “Lord Kazekage, it is very dangerous for a Kage to abandon their position for a mission. Who will look out for your village?”

The first name to roll off his tongue came natural to him. “Baki,” Gaara replied, “He trained Kankurō, Temari and I and is an excellent leader. He will watch over Suna in my stead.”

The grey-haired Kage looked uneasy, but eventually sighed, “As this is a crisis situation, you’re right. From Konoha, I’m sending Kiba Inuzuka and Akamaru to help with tracking, and Shikamaru Nara. Naruto Uzumaki is exhausted, newlywed, and expecting a child, so he is unfortunately disqualified for this mission. Shikamaru is the most intelligent and practical jonin in the village, therefore he will go in his stead. With that—“

“Kakashi!”

That voice was almost as loud as it was familiar to Gaara, and it came across the room from the exact person he would have never suspected to recover from the injuries he had sustained battling Madara— Might Guy, in a wheelchair, of all places. The Kazekage held him with high respect these days, and looked fairly surprised at his outburst. Surely he wasn’t about to protest? There was no way he’d be able to assist in this mission given his current state. Gaara almost wanted to speak, but Kakashi got to it first.

“Guy, you’ve done enough in one lifetime to help us in a thousand. There’s no need—“

“You flatter me, Kakashi,” Guy chuckled. His eyes started shimmering with tears, “But I’m not talking about me. Take Lee with you. If the threat is big enough you can count on Lee to take it out. He still trains every day and every night to be the best taijutsu user the world has ever seen. I have no doubt in that kid.” 

_Lee_. Several memories flashed in Gaara’s mind, causing him to wince. There was a time he would have done anything to kill him, and another he would have done anything to keep him from getting killed. Since the Chunin exams, part of Gaara still believed Lee hated him, hated it when he fought beside him, even hated being his escort during Naruto’s wedding. Even if he didn’t hate him, Gaara almost wished that he did; he deserved his hatred. Lee had always been fair— perhaps more fair than Naruto— and noble. The only difference between the last time they had ever spoken and the first time they had ever spoken was that Lee just kept getting  _stronger_. Gaara might have changed, but not everyone was quite as forgiving as Naruto and Rock Lee.

Kakashi just gave Guy a dismissive wave. “Fine. From Konoha, Kiba, Akamaru, Shikamaru, and Rock Lee. From Suna, Lord Kazekage and Kankurō. From Iwa, Ittan. From Kumo, Karui. And from Kiri, Chōjūrō. From this point until the end of this mission, you are to be known as the Elite Eleven. Your mission begins at dawn, I have escorts assigned for you to return to the chambers I have organised for your stay in Konoha for the night. Make sure to eat well and get plenty of rest. Your journey tomorrow will not be easy.” 

With that, the meeting was dismissed, and Gaara and Kankurō left the building. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Gaara arrived back to the gates of Konoha, he was surprised to see three extra faces added to the group he was to be travelling with. He recognized Choji Akimichi, Shikamaru’s close friend and former teammate, as well as Omoi, who was representing team Samui at the meeting the night before. He was able to decipher the last new face too, the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter, Kurotsuchi. He hadn’t officially met her before, but he knew who she was— and what she was capable of. Knowing Ōnoki, there was more than likely only one reason she that could be here: to send everyone off on the Kage’s behalf, as him nor any of the other three Kage were clearly nowhere to be found. 

Gaara stepped forward and was met instantly with Kankurō’s voice, which startled him. “Gaara! Why are you always so late to everything lately? Ever since you’ve started sleeping you don’t seem to want to wake up. Must be having some  _ good _ dreams, huh?” It was a joke, and Gaara knew that. Sleeping was one of those major ‘normal human,’ things he was beyond grateful for since having Shukaku extracted from him, though sometimes he missed the tanuki and reminisced on their farewell all those years ago; he wondered how his former tailed beast was faring these days.

Gaara simply looked at his brother and shrugged, “I’ve been catching up on all the years I’ve lost.”

With the chatter of the people gathered at the gates growing, everyone fell silent all of a sudden when the sixth Hokage appeared on top of the gate, looking even more tired than Gaara was. “Sorry I’m late,” he started, and several of the leaf ninja on the team groaned. “I just wanted to add that three more people have insisted on travelling with you during this mission, and while I’ve heard some complaints about it—“ he looked directly at Kurotsuchi at that, who flushed (her grandfather must not have approved of this at all), “We’ve all decided it’s for the best. The more ninja we have, the better chance we have if there is a direct threat. That being said, I’ve given Shikamaru, Chōjūrō, and Kurotsuchi maps and materials to set up camp on your journey and find your path there and back. Do not take the main paths, this mission is discreet. And uh, I think I was supposed to say something else...” He paused and scratched his head for a moment, then continued once he seemed to find the answer, “Oh! It’s in your best interest to find someone to keep watch while you all sleep at night. Rotate if you want, toss a coin, it doesn’t really matter. Be alert and be safe. I hope to see you all in the same shape when you return.  _Mata ne_ _!_ ” 

Kakashi Hatake disappeared without another word. This was going to be a long mission.

—

It probably looked suspicious, eleven ninja from all of the Five Nations travelling through the forest north of Konoha, and Gaara couldn’t help but to feel a little uneasy at the fact that, even though they steered clear of any paths, there was always a possibility they were being watched. He didn’t know who or what to look out for, so if something were to happen, they’d all essentially be unprepared for it. A part of him knew this wasn’t going to end up being some band of smugglers or random rogue-nin they were going to uncover; it was a gut feeling that kept his stomach churning. Shikamaru was right about not trusting silence.

Gaara was brought out of his thoughts, however, when a voice from behind him caught his attention.

“Lord Kazekage!”

The sand ninja stopped walking for a moment to let the voice catch up before finally meeting eyes with Rock Lee, who, now that they were side-by-side, looked different compared to when they had last seen each other. His jawline was a bit more pronounced, and he had ripped the sleeves of his infamous green suit off to reveal his arms, which were a lot more muscular than he remembered them being. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever actually seen the leaf-nin’s arms before. He was still taller, though— still had the same bowl cut, the same thick eyebrows, and the same sincere smile. It was amazing to Gaara how someone like him could be so happy all the time— truly perplexing.

“Rock Lee,” Gaara finally returned. He closed his eyes for a second and breathed out through his nose;  _Lord Kazekage_ . It was almost annoying. “Please, drop the formalities. It’s Gaara.”

Lee gave a hearty, playful salute and they proceeded trudging through the woods. “That is totally acceptable! Please forgive me!”

Yes, though the older ninja had definitely changed on the outside, he was still the same old Rock Lee on the inside. Gaara felt his lips quiver in an attempt at a smile. “You’re forgiven.”

“It is great to finally see you again, Gaara-kun,” Lee continued, “How are things in Suna?”

_Gaara-kun_ . The Kazekage didn’t recall being addressed that way since childhood, and it threw him aback for a second. He had to think about the question; everything just came and went so often that eventually even time was added into the flow of things. “Boring,” he replied, and it was indeed, very boring, “Until recently, of course.”

Lee opened his mouth to respond, but the voices ahead of them grew so loud that they both stopped speaking to hear what was going on. 

Kankurō and Kiba were arguing— practically screaming at each other. Gaara rolled his eyes; trust in Kankuro to make a scene.

“It isn’t fucking animal abuse to bathe your dog!”

“It is when he doesn’t want to take a bath! And I _do_ bathe him, _baka_ , I just told you that! Are you saying I never bathe him just because I haven’t given him a bath in a few days?”

“It sure smells like it! You and that mutt smell like you’ve never had a bath a day in your lives!”

“Like you smell any better!”

Akamaru began barking over them, so loud that their voices were drowned out; Rock Lee and Gaara exchanged glances. 

Shikamaru, who was just ahead of Gaara and Lee, stepped back and let out the longest sigh that the Kazekage had probably ever heard in his life. “What a drag.”

The sound of another teammate’s footsteps attempting to match pace with the three of them caught Gaara’s attention before he could respond. Ittan from Iwagakure gave the Kazekage a rushed look, like he’d been trying to get his attention. “Lord Ka-“

“Gaara.”

“Gaara,” he continued, “I just wanted to thank you. You helped our section, back in the war, and more importantly Kiri and I, realise that loyalty isn’t just to one country. My view of the world has completely changed thanks to you. I’m honored to fight for you again.” 

Gaara didn’t really know how to respond; he’d been thanked before, plenty of times, but even these days it never ceased to surprise him. He felt awkward at first, and then embarrassed when he noticed the pride beaming on Rock Lee’s face, who was walking in sync with him. Truthfully, he didn’t know how else to respond; it was thanks to Naruto Uzumaki that he was even there to speak that night. “I appreciate that,” he started, slowly, “but you don’t have to thank me. Naruto Uzumaki deserves your respect. I am just an example.”

Rock Lee spoke before Ittan was able to. “My apologies for intruding, Gaara-kun, but you should not be so humble! Not to discredit Naruto, but every choice you have made since then your battle with him has been from your own heart!”

“I’m... not sure I understand,” Gaara responded, now puzzled and still feeling a bit awkward. 

“Naruto might have set you onto the right path in the beginning,” Lee explained, “but it has ultimately been up to you to continue it! You always have choices to make, and it is always up to you and only you to make them! He can inspire you, of course, but you could have chosen not to listen! Back when you gave your speech, every word was your own; you have only yourself to thank for that! If you think you have improved, Gaara-kun, then you should not discredit all of the hard work it took to get you where you are today!” Lee smiled when he finished speaking, all shiny white teeth and sincerity. 

His words resonated with Gaara in a way the Kazekage couldn’t quite understand. He supposed, though, that Lee had a point. He hummed in contemplation before deciding, “You’re right,” and then he turned to Ittan, “Thank you, Ittan.” 

Ittan merely smiled, nodded and jogged forward to join Chōjūrō in attempting to talk Kiba and Kankurō down. 

“Guy-sensei taught me that becoming better is always achieved through hard work and choices!” Lee exclaimed, still smiling. “I think you are doing a great job!”

Gaara felt his face burn a little, but he couldn’t find a reason as to why, nor did he care to wonder. “Your sensei,” he started, and Lee’s smile almost wavered, as if he was anticipating the Kazekage to say something negative about him, “is very wise. As are you.” The leaf-nin shone at that, visibly flattered, and Gaara decided to slightly direct the topic to avoid any more of the awkward atmosphere, “Um. Is it true that you can open all of the same inner gates that your teacher can?”

“Yes, it is,” Lee responded, “In fact, I learned to open them all at such a young age that Guy-sensei believes that one day I will be able to surpass him as the Greatest Taijutsu User of all time!”

Gaara was stunned. He recalled watching Might Guy face off against Madara Uchiha, remembered how Madara declared him his strongest opponent. If Lee were to surpass Guy one day— he shuddered. He didn’t even want to begin pondering what he could be capable of. “How do they work?”

“Hm?”

“The Inner Gates.”

“Oh! There’s eight of them,” Lee began, “Each one represents a different chakra point in the body! We all have them! They exist in order to limit the flow of chakra from each point. Average— or well, people without very skilled taijutsu, such as you, or Naruto, for example, can use no more than 20% of their body's full potential before your brain makes you exhausted. With lots and lots of training, though, anyone can learn how to open them! With each gate opened, you are given access to more and more of your body's chakra, therefore increasing your strength and speed! Remember when we fought back at the chunin exams?” Gaara didn’t want to remember, no, but he nodded anyway. “That was me successfully opening the fifth gate: The Gate of Limit!” The Kazekage recalled the sudden change in appearance, the change in speed and strength. He gulped and let the other man continue, “I have since mastered all of them, though I know not to use the Gate of Death unless the lives of my friends depend on it! Opening any of the gates will leave you very exhausted. Sometimes, even your muscles can tear and your bones can break! When opening the eighth and final gate, though, almost always, you will die as a consequence! I am still amazed that Guy-sensei managed to make it out alive, and forever grateful!”

The fact that anyone with that much skill would willingly play that chance and die just in an attempt to protect someone precious to them made Gaara feel, well. Small. “Anyone can open the gates?”

“Only those who are skilled enough in taijutsu!”

The question came out before Gaara could stop it. “Could you teach me?”

Lee looked shocked, and he even almost tripped before stopping in his tracks completely. “G-Gaara-kun, even if I were to help teach you taijutsu on this mission, you might not ever be able to open any of the gates! I’ve spent my whole life training—“

“I don’t care,” Gaara stated, now firm in his request. If he even had the slightest chance at protecting his siblings during the worst of situations, or even Naruto if it came down to it, he would risk it all. He almost didn’t need to decide. “I want to learn.” 

Rock Lee blinked at him, expression still in disbelief, before closing his eyes, smiling brightly, and flashing him a thumbs up. “Then I am honoured that you think well enough of me to ask, Gaara-kun! I will teach you! We will train every day that we can while we are a team, starting tomorrow morning!” 

“Tomorrow morning,” the Kazekage agreed. Lee saluted him as a response, and started began forward, falling just behind Shikamaru and Choji. Gaara stood for a split second longer before following suit, eyes glued to the forest floor. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was, in fact,  _thrilled._


	3. Chapter 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not too good with fight scenes to be fair but here’s my attempt!

When Gaara woke up, he found that he couldn’t for the life of him remember his dream. It was unusual; since he had started sleeping again, he remembered every dream that came to him, down to the very first night. He wasn’t sure what that meant, not knowing. Was it too good of a dream to remember, or was it so awful that his brain blocked it out for him? He pondered on it for a moment before coming to the conclusion that maybe it was best he didn’t recall anything; it must not have been important.

He shook the thoughts that raced around in his head away and stood up, trying not to make any moves that could alert the snoring log that was Kankurō or the curled up sleeping bundle of blue that was Chōjūrō. The tent he was in was nightly inhabited by the three of them and another, but judging by the look of it, he was already awake. Which wad good, Gaara convinced himself, because there was no time to waste waiting around.

Pulling the flap of the tent back, he allowed the sun that peeked through the trees to warm him as he stepped outside. He quickly noticed that nobody else was within eyesight, which confused him;  _ where the hell...? _

“Hey, Gaara-kun, over here!”

The voice led his eyes to his far right, in a very minute clearing between trees, and sure enough, right in the center, stood Rock Lee. 

Gaara let out a small sigh and approached, wondering how the taller man could have been awake all night and still had enough energy to train so early in the morning. “Good morning, Lee,” he started as he reached the leaf ninja, “did you watch over camp last night?”

“Yes, I did!” Lee exclaimed, beaming with pride. “Everything was just fine!” He reached into his jumpsuit (which Gaara did not know had pockets, but he guessed if he had paid more attention maybe he would have noticed them), and pulled out what the sand-nin instantly recognized as the same wraps he was wearing. “I always keep extra, but you can have these for our session today, you’re going to need them!”

Gaara took them with a little hesitation. “Aren’t you, um. Tired?”

When Rock Lee laughed, it was unlike any other sound the Kazekage had ever heard before; a sharp, pleasant pitch that synchronized with his eyes shutting and strands of his hair moving. He’d heard Temari and Kankuro laugh plenty of times, he’d heard Naruto laugh, too, but none of them seemed to do so with so much sheer  _joy_. It was truly unbelievable, and he felt his eyes widen. “No way! I could do it tonight, too, even after training!”

A puzzled Gaara wasn’t even sure how his own expression looked anymore, but he imagined he had to at least look confused. “ _Why_? ” 

Lee’s smile faded a little and he opened his eyes again, his head tilting slightly to the side. “I have been training my entire life,” he answered, “part of that training has including staying up for days just punching the same tree until it eventually fell over. Here,” he noticed Gaara trying (and failing) to wrap his hands up and reached his own out to help. Instinctively, the redhead hesitated, and he heard the sand rushing out of his gourd before he actually saw it. It was a simple  _whoosh_ and a  _ thwap _ that flung itself between Lee’s hands and his own, causing the bushy-browed man to pull back quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Gaara blurted. He felt his face burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t... expect that. My sand, it— it’s defensive, if I hurt you—“

“It is okay, Gaara-kun, I understand!” Lee responded, and he too, looked embarrassed. He smiled, though, and began unwrapping one of his own hands. “And you did not hurt me. Let me show you this way, then!” 

Still embarrassed, Gaara watched each of the movements and attempted to mimic them. It was still hard to believe anyone could forgive him, especially when that ‘anyone,’ was Rock Lee. How could he be so kind and understanding all the time? Surely there had to be malice or spite for the sand-nin inside of him  somewhere ? If not for the moment, lingering from the past? Gaara felt overwhelmingly guilty; of all people he had wronged in his troublesome life, why did it have to be someone who’s entire existence was centered around being so fair and pleasant? Lee had been one of the only people not terrified of him back then— one of the only people to treat him as an equal rather than a monster. And, to add, they had touched before, after they had battled Kimimaro together; he remembered assisting him in walking back to Konoha, he had allowed the older man to sling his arm around his shoulder for support. In fact, Lee was one of the first people to have ever touched Gaara in a way that wasn’t intended to harm him, the first being his uncle, Yashamaru. Temari and Kankurō had tried, but to no avail— only after Naruto had spoken to him and after assisting Lee in combat were they able to finally hug their younger brother. Why wouldn’t his sand let him be touched now?  _I trust him_ ,  Gaara told himself firmly, _I can let him help me. I can._

“I can’t do it,” Gaara said, and he held out his hands, with the loose wraps. He didn’t want to look at Lee’s face, he shifted his gaze downward and felt his face heat up again. “Can we try again?” 

“Of course! We can try as many times as you would like!”

Surprised, Gaara looked back up, and then to his hands. He didn’t know whether or not he was begging himself or his sand, he just knew he wanted to do something right. 

The next thing he knew, Lee’s hands were directly over his, his fingers gripping the wrap sitting loosely in his palms. He was shocked— pleasantly shocked— light green eyes wide, face still warm, and he looked up to see that the other ninja was focused, yet a bit surprised himself. Despite the awe, Lee wove the wraps around each of Gaara’s hands with ease, rather quickly, and for some reason, Gaara felt a little dismayed; he didn’t realise how refreshing human contact could be. He supposed it would be awkward, though, so whenever Lee finished, he pulled his hands back and let himself brush the thought away. 

“Thank you,” Gaara finally said after a pause, now specifically avoiding eye contact.

“You are welcome!” he heard Lee exclaim, “Are you ready to begin?”

The Kazekage nodded, head clear, finally looking up to meet an optimistic Lee’s eyes. “I’m ready.”

“OK! Today we are going to start with—“

Lee was cut short by a yell, shrill and loud, followed by, “ _Who the hell are you? _ What are you doing in _our camp?_ ” 

Gaara immediately recognized the voice as that of Kankurō, and he whipped around to see his older brother, along with Kiba Inuzuka and his dog, Akamaru, defensively guarding a tent from a kunoichi he couldn’t recognize from the distance they were at. His mind told him to walk forward, so he did, but he was immediately stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hang on, you do not want to draw attention to yourself,” Lee suggested. He didn’t move his hand, so Gaara stood still and let it rest there. 

The konoichi, stepped toward Kankurō. Her hair was blonde and tied tightly in a single bun with blunt bangs spilling over her forehead, but Gaara couldn’t see a forehead protector at all, not on her head nor anywhere on her entire outfit, which consisted of mainly black (therefore, he figured, a forehead protector would be rather easy to pick out). “Pardon me for intruding. I am Toshiko. And you two?”

“None of your damn business,” Kankurō spat back. Akamaru growled.

“Well, that’s not fair,” Toshiko replied dryly, and she took yet another step forward. Her voice was calm, but suspicious. “I gave you my name, why do you feel as though I don’t deserve to know yours?”

Kankurō stepped forward this time, “Because I don’t want you to know it. You ever heard of making choices?”

“It just so happens that I have,” and she was now too close for comfort. Gaara’s feet slid forward by a single centimetre, anxious. “And since you’ve chosen to be so rude, I am choosing my own life over yours.”

“What makes you think you’re capable of that?”

The woman, Toshiko, laughed. “I’ve beaten ninja far more hot-headed than you, blindfolded.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Kankurō hissed. Gaara watched his brother emit his chakra threads, and briefly wondered which puppet this apparently-rogue konoichi was about to be hit with. His pondering was halted, however, when Toshiko’s hand was suddenly gripping Kankuro’s own, her grip firm.

“The puppet technique? Give me a break. I gathered that you were easily angered, but I didn’t know you were a cheater in combat, too. Why don’t we settle this without ninjustu, since you’re so confident?”

Kankurō looked trapped, as though he couldn’t move his hand at all. Gaara looked quickly at Lee, who met his gaze with concern. “Another taijutsu specialist,” he murmured to Gaara, “but she’s scared. Leave this to me!”

“Lee—“

It was too late, by the time Gaara had protested, Lee had already shot forward, spinning between Kankurō and Toshiko, having caught her so off guard that she let go of Kankurō and stumbled backwards onto the forest floor. She was quick to sit back up, though, wiping her mouth and spitting out, “What the—? Who’re you?”

“I am the Hidden Leaf’s handsome devil,” Rock Lee stated, putting one hand in front of him and stepping so that his knees were bent, feet apart— the most recognizable stance, Gaara noted, “Rock Lee!”

Toshiko stood up and Gaara walked forward, half-hidden by a tree; somewhere in his mind he knew that Lee could almost certainly take her by himself, but just in case, he would wait on the sideline if he needed a hand— or sand to fall onto. He could see her face better now, pale, her eyes a dark brown glinting with anger. She was no ordinary rogue. 

Kankurō took several steps back, “Are you sure you want to do this, centipede-brows? She’s stronger than she looks.”

“I am sure,” Lee said soundly.

“Well,” Toshiko breathed out, “at least you were polite enough to give me your name. I am Toshiko, member of the Saibankan. Your group has been sent to exterminate my own, and I have been sent to stop you.” She put her own hand forward and almost mimicked Lee’s stance, legs apart, feet firm on the ground. “Taijutsu happens to be my strong suit, too, Rock Lee of the Hidden Leaf. I’ve trained my entire life with it. You will die today.”

She reached down and flung several kunai forward. Gaara’s sand churned, ready to block the attack from afar, but Lee jumped up quicker than Gaara’s own reflexes and singlehandly kicked each one back towards her, which she dodged. They lodged themselves in the tree behind her before she, too, jumped up, drawing a fist back only to have it blocked by Lee’s own arm. She drew her body back and charged again, presumably expecting her opponent to jump again, but Lee did the opposite: he squatted down just as she missed her punch and hit her from below, propelling her up— a knockback attack— for just enough time for him to launch himself into the air again and swing his heel down onto her. 

Toshiko hit the ground again at such a velocity that Gaara visibly cringed, but shockingly, she stood up and wiped the blood from her cheek. “You’re good,” she noted, “but I’m done screwing around.” She rushed forward at Lee, and threw forward a kick that knocked him back. Gaara gasped, the sand in his gourd rushing out faster than light to pool under Lee as he hit the ground. Toshiko stared, puzzled, which was a major mistake in that Lee was already back on his feet and charging toward her.

“ _Leaf Grand Hurricane_! ” Rock Lee yelled, and he leapt up once more, rotating, delivering at first a low kick, which was blocked, then immediately a middle kick, which was also blocked, and then another high kick, which was feebly blocked, but the velocity at which the kicks were delivered sent such a gust of slicing winds that her arms dropped, and the wind knocked back not just Toshiko, but Kankurō, Kiba and Akamaru as well. Gaara quickly sent out his sand to soften the falls of his teammates and brother, meanwhile their opponent tumbled backwards, each time hitting the forest floor over and over until she hit a tree with such force that it cracked before falling completely, and then laid still against the stump. It was a quicker fight than anyone could have anticipated, and by the looks of it, Lee wasn’t even remotely tired.

By now, Shikamaru, Choji, Chōjūrō, Karui, Kurotsuchi, Omoi and Ittan were all outside of their own tent, watching in awe as Lee approached a dazed Toshiko. “For someone who has trained their whole life,” he said, “you should have been taught how to defend yourself! What is this ‘ _Saibankan_ ,’ thing anyway?”

Toshiko was clearly too injured to move on her own; by the look of it, she probably broke a few bones during her collision. Even still, she didn’t hesitate to scowl at her opponent. “I would rather die than betray my friends.”

“That is very admirable, Toshiko of the Saibankan,” Lee said, “but if you would truly rather die than to at least give us the information we need to even continue this mission properly, we have no use for you! And you would surely die out here alone in your current state.”

Gaara considered stepping forward, but Shikamaru’s voice kept him from doing so. “We can’t kill her,” he said, calmly, “She knows too much. She knows where we need to go and who to look out for. She could be of great use to us.”

Chōjūrō nodded in agreement, but he was the only one who did. Kiba spoke next, “As civil and humane as that would be, Shikamaru, we can’t afford to do that. For one, she’s _loud_ , and she could attract attention to us and expose us. If we let her go, she’ll come back with more people, and who knows when that’s gonna happen. Besides, do you really think she’d tell us _anything_?”

Kankurō looked surprised, maybe at the fact that he was in agreement with Kiba. “He’s right,” he added, “She won’t tell us anything. It doesn’t matter what we do. We have no choice.”

“We have several choices,” Shikamaru argued, “and none of them involve murdering her.”

Kiba snorted, “That’s our only choice!”

“Think _rationally,_ Kiba—“

“I am thinking rationally! I value my own friends over a woman who attacked me in my sleep!” 

Akamaru seemed to bark in agreement.

“I agree with Kiba,” said Kankuro, “and that’s saying something. Let’s call it mercy.”

“That is just _not_ a good idea, let me explain to you guys—“

Over there arguing, Gaara carefully tried to listen to Toshiko and Lee’s interaction. 

“I do not want to kill you,” Lee stated, “but my duty is to protect my friends.”

“So was mine,” Toshiko grit out. She coughed, blood now singing her lips, “and I failed them. Just do it. You won’t stand a chance against the rest of them if you hesitate before killing.” 

Gaara exhaled. He knew Lee didn’t have the capacity to kill, or maybe he did, but a part of him didn’t want the leaf-nin to do it. He heeded his brother’s words—  _let’s call it mercy_ — before bringing his fingers together and then putting his hand out in front of him, aiming it at the konoichi against the tree. “ _Sand Coffin_ ,” he muttered, and once she was completely covered, she finally searched around, caught his eye, and nodded. He closed his eyes and his hand at the same time, “ _Sand_ _Burial_.”

The arguing stopped abruptly, and all gazes tracked from the blood that seeped from the sand to the tree that Gaara was behind. He stepped out, remorseful, eyes now on the ground directly in front of him. He felt guilty, he always did since Shukaku had been extracted from his body, but feeling the stares of his fellow teammates on him made him feel worse.

He heard Shikamaru’s voice first, scornful. “ _Gaara_! That woman held valuable information, we should have kept her alive and interrogated her, maybe kept her as our prisoner until we got to our location! Killing her was off the table, how could you—?”

The next voice he expected to be Kankuro’s, but it was Lee’s. He looked up. “Not to discredit your opinion, Shikamaru,” he began, his tone unyielding, “but Gaara was simply doing as she requested of me; she had failed her mission. Even if she were to get loose, her team would kill her regardless, she told me that herself! She asked me to kill her, but _he_ spared me from doing that! And he is clearly full of regret! Please give him the benefit of the doubt! She said she would rather die than betray her friends, I am sure any of you would do the same!”

The Kazekage felt overwhelmingly embarrassed— but yet, not  _embarrassed_ , it was a feeling he couldn’t explain. He looked at Lee, who smiled at him, and then to Kankurō, and to Kiba, who were seemingly in agreeance. Chōjūrō seemed especially indifferent on the matter, as did everyone else. Appreciation and defense was something the sand-nin was not at all used to; he didn’t know how to react.

“Fine. Whatever,” Shikamaru finally decided, and he followed his words with a shrug. “Let’s pack up camp and head forward today. This kind of scene draws attention, and that would be a drag,” he then turned directly to Gaara, “and Gaara. I guess I should thank you. Maybe she _would_ have caused problems alive. I’ve been wrong before.” 

Gaara stood still awkwardly, still unsure of the wave of emotions that flooded over him. He stood in the same position until the tents and mats were packed, the only thing that broke him out of his thoughts was the sound of Kankurō. “I never thought I’d see you and bushy-brows working together,” he said, jokingly at first, “but it’s interesting to watch. You know, as long as you don’t start calling him _Lee-Sensei_.” He laughed at his own joke and gave his brother a pat on the back before trudging up to Kiba, and for once, their conversation seemed casual.

Gaara pressed on and eventually caught up with Lee, feeling so many strange emotions that he didn’t even know which one to express. “Thank you,” he said, his tone awkward, “for defending me.” 

“It is my pleasure!” Lee responded. He smiled again, and this time, Gaara felt his stomach churn in a way he didn’t even want to understand. “Do you still want to train tomorrow morning? I believe Ittan is taking the watch tonight!”

Gaara nodded without a second’s hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Excellent! I am looking forward to it!”

“As am I.” And he was.

With that, the eleven pressed forward, heading north. The entire trip, the sand ninja didn’t speak, but he thought. Thought about mercy, about friendship, about loyalty— and most of all, thought about how all of those things were techniques that Rock Lee was helping him understand. It was bizarre, truly, but maybe, Gaara thought, that was exactly how it was supposed to work. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love a good filler

Gaara dreamt of being in Suna again— walking the streets, the sand reflecting the sunlight onto pale skin. For some reason, though, he didn’t seem to want to be there— at least not in his dream state. There was an absence despite being around Baki, Temari, and Kankurō, altogether in a tavern, enjoying a meal of what the Kazekage could only assume was for a victory or celebration; something was missing, though, he felt, he just couldn’t figure out what or why.For that reason he didn’t eat, didn’t speak, didn’t move. He just sat there silently and pondered. 

He woke up early in the morning again to a snoring Kankurō directly across from him, searching for and expecting an empty mat that Rock Lee would have abandoned already to be awake and training, but to his surprise, the leaf-nin was fast asleep a few feet from him, limbs sprawled out, drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. He wondered briefly what the other man was dreaming about; he didn’t quite know Lee well enough to assume or even begin to wonder about anything that went on in that eccentric mind of his. He looked peaceful and comfortable though, and that was enough motivation for Gaara to decide to get up and take note of the words he had been told the day before. He stood, wraps still tight around his hands, grabbed his gourd and smaller bags, and headed out of the tent; he’d start training by himself until Lee woke up.

On his way out, he noticed Ittan, who had taken the overnight watch, sitting on a log in front of a now-burnt out fire. The stone-nin seemed to notice him too, because he looked behind him and gave the Kazekage a lazy grin. “Good morning, Gaara! Long night, huh?”

“Yes,” Gaara responded, “Anything come up during the night? Anything concerning?”

Ittan let out a low chuckle, “Other than the owls not letting me catch a wink of sleep, I haven’t noticed anything out of place.”

“That’s good,” Gaara responded. Interesting, he thought, how no other rogues seemed be on their tail (or watching them from the shadows) after their run in with Toshiko yesterday. It seemed suspicious.

“Where are you headed?” 

“Rock Lee has been training me in taijutsu,” Gaara briefly explained, “I’m going to practice a little by myself.”

“Taijustu, huh?” Ittan raised an eyebrow. “It’s a difficult skill to master on his level.”

It was a definite truth, and Gaara knew that. He’d never surposs Lee or his teacher, but learning a little would surely help him in the future. “True enough,” he stated, “but something positive will come out of it, at least.”

Ittan nodded. “That’s a good point. Good luck, Gaara. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’ll try.”

Gaara kept walking until he stumbled upon a clearing a good distance from the camp. It was a rather open area, tall trees and dead grass that sat beside a small river, which was accompanied by a little waterfall and mossy rocks that scaled it’s length— not too high, hardly even half the height of the trees surrounding it. It was an unusually beautiful sight to see in a forest, and he didn’t recall them passing a stream yet in their journey thus far. That must have meant they were headed in the right direction. 

He set down his gourd and bags against a tree and decided this was where he’d be training today; it felt peaceful enough to focus, and the summer sun was so warm that maybe after he trained, he’d even jump into the water to cool off— if there weren’t any interruptions, that was. 

Gaara didn’t exactly know where to begin, which was probably not a good thing. He supposed, though, that he had watched Lee enough to possibly mimic him (then again, he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not he had been paying attention to the movements he made or his tactics in combat). He awkwardly inhaled and slid one foot forward, bending a knee, one backward, and extended his dominant arm towards the tree in front of him.  _ Hand-to-hand combat_, he thought,  _or hand-to-tree combat. I can do this._

He let out a steady breath, eyes closed, and rushed forward. His hand was clenched into a tight fist, still wrapped in cloth, and when he made finally made contact with the tree, he jumped back at the absolute shock of pain that ran through his entire arm. He opened his eyes as a cry escaped past his lips; he’d hardly ever felt real pain, and the sensation was still new to him even now, but given the way his hand throbbed, he was certain that was as painful as physical pain could get. He already wanted to give up and stop, but Lee’s advice drove him not to, somehow.  _ Keep hitting it until it falls over. I can do that.  _

Determined, Gaara rushed forward again and again, trying to ignore the pain in his hand until he couldn’t bear to use it anymore. He decided to switch to his other hand rather than give up, but the more he hit the wood and noticed how little damage he was giving it, the more frustrated he became. How could Lee make it look so _easy_? The man could kick down a tree in a single motion, yet here Gaara was, the Kazekage in charge of protecting all of Suna, unable to even physically damage something that couldn’t move. He punched more, each thrust more fervent, each smack causing him to cry out in anguish, the sound of himself and his fists against the trees echoing throughout the clearing. 

Closing his eyes, he stepped back, and ran forward one more time, this time yelling. He was going to put everything into this one, all of the strength he could muster. The strike was hard— harder than he had anticipated, and he heard a small crunch before the searing pain caused him to drop to his knees in defeat. He looked first up at the tree, where a small piece of bark was now missing, and then down to his left hand, and felt shock grip his body; the wraps were torn, and blood covered the knuckles between his middle and index finger, with more of it pouring from two gashes on the same digits. His entire hand, wrist, and forearm pulsed. That was his own blood again. His own blood. He felt his heart racing and his head began to spin, he knew better than to use sand armour or to allow his sand to interfere, but at that point he wished that he had; he was injured.

“Gaara-kun!”

He lifted his head slightly, red hair covering his eyes (which were stinging with forming tears), just enough to see two familiar legs running towards him. He dropped his head again, holding his own hand in the other, the blood now covering the dirty wraps on his right at the contact. 

Gaara felt Rock Lee’s arms wrap around his shoulders and flinched at first, but ultimately leaned into the touch upon realising the leaf ninja was only there to help him. “Are you alright?”

“I... I’m bleeding,” the Kazekage stated, lost, lifting his arms up in demonstration. 

He met Lee’s eyes finally, which were filled with concern, before the older ninja whipped around in front of him and took the injured hand into his own. “Hm,” he began, “It looks as though you have split your knuckles. I am sorry I hadn’t intervened sooner. It is my fault, I had been observing you and if I had just come to train you myself, this wouldn’t have happened! Please forgive me!” 

At first, Gaara was slightly disappointed, but not because Lee hadn’t interfered. He was disappointed in the fact that he blamed himself. “It isn’t your fault,” he seethed, “I chose to do this. It’s my own fault.”

Lee reached into his pouch, pulled out gauze and pressed it into the wounds on the younger man’s hand, who grit his teeth at the pressure. “Do not worry, I’ve sustained the same injuries before! It always seems difficult at first, you have to warm up and do a bunch of other things before you can properly focus. All you need to do with your wounds is clean them up and cover it with more wraps, and I would advise you to take a break from training for the next few days!”

Gaara opened his mouth to speak, but Lee interrupted him. “I am no medical ninja, but I know that cleaning it with fresh water and giving you fresh wraps should help the process. Here,” he then did something rather unexpected and grabbed Gaara’s arm, lifting him up effortlessly and leading him towards the river nearby. “This is going to sting a little, but it will help, please bear with me!” The leaf ninja reached into a pouch and pulled out a vile of— was that rock salt? He gently unwrapped Gaara’s injured hand and dipped it into the river, which was cool to the touch initially, but already the wound on his hand began to sting again. When he felt his hand lifted, Lee began to sprinkle some of the salt onto the wound, and Gaara yelled out a sharp, _“_ _Ah!_ _”_ before Lee began rubbing it in gently and dipping his hand back into the river and cleansing it, which burned to a degree Gaara was completely unfamiliar with— so much so, in fact, that the sand from his gourd a few metres away came rushing forward. Before he knew it, Lee was shoved into the river.

Guilt filled the sand-nin and he felt his face burn. “I’m sorry,” he said feebly, “I didn’t mean to—“

“It is quite alright!” Lee exclaimed, “the water feels amazing! I have plenty of other jumpsuits, this one doesn’t matter anyhow!” He slid the now-soaked jumpsuit off and threw it onto the grass beside Gaara, who was now in so much shock that he couldn’t even find a thought to explain how he felt.

Lee was covered in scars, that part was unsurprising, but the muscles that were clearly hidden by the green bodysuit he wore were now very visible; suddenly Gaara felt insecure. He wasn’t muscular in the slightest, nor did he bear any battle scars. He was slim and pale, the sand had always kept his skin smooth and in tact, and he had never trained enough to build muscle mass, in contrast to the other man. Along with insecurity, Gaara felt something completely different; he couldn’t exactly define it, it was a feeling unfamiliar to him. He was just glad the water covered from the waste down. He didn’t need to be humiliated in that fashion either.

“You should join me!” 

If the pain didn’t shock him enough, the suggestion certainly did. Sea foam eyes stared blankly at round ones, and Lee turned a shade of pink.

“I am sorry if that was too forward!” he said, lifting one hand to scratch the back of his head, his eyes now shut. “I just meant that you have been training all morning and it is a very warm day today! I think this would help you cool off!” 

Gaara was not sure why in the slightest, but he found himself convinced. He slowly began to unbutton his maroon clothing and undid the belt, now fully embarrassed in nothing but undergarments, standing awkwardly in front of someone he had never expected to see him in that way. He hesitantly entered the river and waded until he was covered up to his waist. Only when he noticed Rock Lee staring at him did he start to feel utterly humiliated. 

They each stood silent, only a few feet awsy from each other, before Lee broke the silence. “Your skin,” he started, and by the tone of his voice he was in awe, “It’s completely clear of any scars. Is it as smooth as it looks?” 

Though the water was cool and the pain had temporarily faded, Gaara felt his face, neck and ears burn. Humiliation indeed. “I... my sand. It doesn’t, it—“

“Forgive me if I overstep, but may I touch it?”

The Kazekage felt like he was going to burst into flames; nobody had ever asked to touch his skin before, he was beyond baffled. Before he could even think to say no, his mouth moved for him. “You may.”

Lee sploshed towards him, carefully, and reached out a bare hand to gently touch Gaara’s shoulder. “Wow,” he breathed, “Absolutely incredible!” His hand traced down the younger man’s arm, just a little, and Gaara felt his stomach seem to do a backflip. He’d never been touched so gently before, rough skin grazing his own, and it felt weird in a new, profound sort of way.

Eventually, Lee pulled away, and the Kazekage decided a change of topic would be best to avoid any further awkwardness than there already was. “You mentioned that you had sustained these injuries before,” he said quietly, “and your body... it’s scarred all over. How were you able to do this for hours? For days? Did it not hurt you?”

Of course Lee would smile like that. “Well,” he began, “from the beginning, I never knew my parents. I was an orphan, and what was worse, I never had the skills required to perform ninjutsu, and nobody to teach me. Nobody in the leaf village believed I could ever be a genin, let alone a chūnin or a jōnin. I was bullied and mocked by a lot of the village, and I didn’t even believe in myself— that is, until I met Guy-Sensei! He became the father I never had. He believed in me; he was never too good at ninjutsu either, and he offered to train me in elite taijutsu from the start. It was all I was capable of doing! He had me practice every day and every night just to learn the most basic taijutsu, I remember walking on my hands for an entire night at his request to perfect a certain move, and the next day, I was able to do so effortlessly! When I kept failing, he always encouraged me to challenge myself to keep getting better, so I pushed myself every day until I was finally able to break my very first tree in half! When I graduated, Neji and Tenten were very surprised, which I considered a major compliment! I got better and better until I was finally able to defeat Sasuke Uchiha in combat! It’s been nothing but history since then! I just kept on pushing myself to prove that with enough hard work, even someone with no skill in ninjutsu can become an excellent shinobi!” 

Gaara was silent for a moment, and felt his emotions suddenly grow very solemn. He never knew very much about Lee; he always seemed so positive and optimistic, he never would have imagined he had spent his childhood the opposite. “I’m sorry.”

“There is need to apologise! Growth is the only way to overcome! I am glad for my experience!” Lee explained. He tilted his head for a moment and looked at Gaara with curiosity. “You have also grown a lot! I know enough to remember you had the ichibi sealed inside of you, what was that like?” When Gaara feel silent, the leaf-nin hesitated, “I am sorry if I brought something up you do not want to discuss! You do not have to answer me if you do not wish to!”

“No,” Gaara said calmly. Maybe talking about it would help; after all, it had helped bond him and Naruto in the past. He liked to think of Lee as a friend, too, so speaking to him about it would bond them in a way as well. “I’ll gladly discuss it with you. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, I am the youngest of my siblings. My father, the Fourth Kazekage, initially wanted to seal the one-tail, Shukaku, into Temari or Kankurō, to serve as a weapon for the village. They weren’t compatible with Shukaku, though, so when my mother was pregnant with me, he ordered granny Chiyo in and discovered that I was compatible, and she sealed the beast inside of me while I was still in my mother's womb. I was born premature, very premature at that, and as a result of the complications in giving birth to me, my mother died. My father was angry and despised me because of it, and rather than being raised with my siblings, I was raised in isolation when I was a child. My father taught me ninjustu, and my uncle, Yashamaru, cared for me. 

“When I  was  allowed to roam around Suna, I tried to befriend the villagers and other kids my age. However, being a jinchuuriki made everyone terrified of me; even the adults avoided me and, when they couldn't avoid me, they treated me with caution while the kids I wanted to play with would run from me, despite anything I did. I always tried to assure that I meant no harm, but sometimes my sand would get in the way and I’d accidentally hurt someone. I didn’t understand the pain they had felt, because my sand always protected me from injury. 

“When I was six, I asked Yashamaru to explain what pain was to me. From what he told me, I did know pain: the unbearable agony that came from my heart. He told me that physical pain, what causes someone to bleed or bruise, could be cured with medicine and time, but pain of the heart, like I felt, could only be cured with love. He told me that I received that love every day, from both my mother— whose spirit sometimes controls the sand that protects me— and from himself. One day, I went out into the village to show some love to those I’d harmed, but everyone either ran away or called me a monster. I wandered the village at night, alone, trying to figure out why everyone hated me so much.

“While I was alone, a Suna Anbu attempted to attack me, and my sand got to him before I could even think. It was a fatal wound. Of course, I felt horrible, but when I unmasked the Anbu, I found that it was Yashamaru. I  was heartbroken; why would the only living person to love me try to kill me? He told me that it was a mission given to him by my own father, that he and the Suna Council had decided that I was a failed experiment, and that if I were allowed to live, I would only continue to do harm to the village and its people. I tried to find comfort in the fact that my uncle had been  _ordered_ to kill me, but he insisted that he volunteered and that he'd always hated me for causing my mother’s death. He told me that my mother never loved me either, and named me ‘a self-loving demon,’ so that I would be a curse upon Suna. He eventually blew himself up after telling me, ‘please die,’ and as a result I went mad.

“I lost everything, and in my first breakdown I decided that, from that point forward, I would live up to my namesake by loving only myself. I used my own sand to etch the kanji for love onto the left side of my forehead,” he then pointed to it, “I was overwhelmed, the pain in my heart was unlike anything I had ever felt. I became Shukaku and attacked my own village, which my father stopped. He tried to kill me five other times for years. I was then so focused on myself, I learned to reign in my powers and as a result became the weapon my father had always wanted.

“When I met my reanimated father in battle, and he saw that I had become the Kazekage and formed strong bonds with my friends, he told me he regretted the life he put me through, and told me he wasn't worthy to be called my father. He told me my mother and Yashamaru had actually always loved me, that everything my uncle had told me was a lie ordered to be told to me by him. When I defeated him, he told me that I had long surpassed him, entrusted the safety and future of Suna to me, and said that he was happy he was given a chance to apologise to and reconcile with me.”

Gaara finished to find Rock Lee staring at him with tears in his eyes. “Gaara-kun,” he sniffed, “I cannot imagine the pain you went through all of those years. I am so deeply sorry.”

“A lot has changed since then,” Gaara reassured, and he forced himself to give his signature small, half smile. “It’s like you said, growth is the only way to overcome.”

Lee beamed at him through tears, “I am glad you are alive,” he stated firmly, “You might have remembered, but I was there when you weren’t. I remember everything Naruto said that day. You have truly grown, more than anyone I have met, and that is something to be proud of!” Gaara felt his face flush while Lee’s tears dissipated. “And for what it is worth, I have never been terrified of you, thought of you as a ‘monster,’ or held a grudge against you for any reason whatsoever! In fact, you and our match in the chūnin exams helped me improve myself— I trained to become even better every day because of you! Without you, I may not have ever become jōnin or been able to open all of the inner gates! I owe you my thanks, Gaara-kun!”

“You shouldn’t thank me,” said Gaara, a bit sheepishly. He looked at the water around him. 

“But I am thanking you!” Lee insisted, “You’ve saved my life before, during our battle with Kimimaro! That day alone you changed more than you have given yourself credit for! I am grateful for Naruto for not only creating a bond with you, but for allowing the two of us to forge a bond as a result! Despite your doubt in yourself, you are an excellent shinobi, an excellent leader, and a very pleasant person to be around!”

_A pleasant person to be around._ Not even Naruto had said something like that to him before. Gaara was speechless. 

In that speechlessness, he heard people approach, and the moment was halted as he noticed a very enthusiastic Chōji Akimichi canonball, clad in his own undergarments, into the pool near the waterfall, causing a massive wave that soaked both Gaara and Lee from the head down. The water felt nice, actually— refreshing, and each of the other teammates followed suit; Shikamaru, Chōjūro, and Kurotsuchi carefully waded into the water, Ittan and Karui ran and dove in, and Omoi, Kiba and even Akamaru hopped in straight. Kankurō, the show off, climbed up the rock to the waterfall and did a flip into the water, and with the water went his facepaint. Gaara sighed. Kankurō never ceased to do the absolute most.

Gaara paddled on his back, observing his teammates with amusement. He noticed Kiba staring at Kankurō, absolutely befuddled. “You know,” the leaf ninja told him, “You’re actually more threatening  _without_ that face paint.” 

Kankurō laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, “And I’m happy to see you bathing. ” Akamaru, who was very much enjoying himself, paddled up to them, and to Gaara’s surprise, Kankurō reached a hand out and rubbed the top of his wet fur. “Y’know what, you’re actually a pretty cute dog, Akamaru.” 

Akamaru barked, but it was a happy bark, and Kiba smiled, all teeth, eyes closed. “Well, what can you expect from my best friend?”

From beside Shikamaru and now Chōji, Gaara noticed the mist-nin Chōjūrō staring at Kurotsuchi as she wet her jet black hair, his expression longing. He knew that look anywhere; it was how Hinata had always looked at Naruto. He smiled to himself and wondered if she noticed him or not. He seemed to constantly be in awe of women.

Omoi and Karui were either discussing something serious or arguing— whatever the case, the Kazekage was too far away to hear. He couldn’t read lips, but judging by the look on Karui’s face and the harsh splash she threw at her teammate, it was almost certainly not a diplomatic conversation. 

“She looks better than the finest barbeque I’ve ever eaten,” Gaara heard Chōji tell Shikamaru, who laughed. 

“Why don’t you go tell  _her_ that?” Shikamaru said, a very dry joke, “Women love being compared to pigs. Just ask Ino.”

Chōji babbled into incoherence before saying, “Well, even if I could think of something clever to say to her, she wouldn’t want to be with a guy like me. I mean, I’ve been to that village so many times and she’s always with Omoi; I’ve always just gone for the food, and despite what Ino might have told you, I’ve never actually had the courage to say anything to her. She probably has something going on with her teammate anyway.”

Karui narrowed her eyes at Omoi from a distance and kicked away from him, and judging from her expression, she was annoyed.

“I doubt that,” Shikamaru chuckled, “They argue way too much. Just be yourself when you do talk to her, ladies flock to originality. Give yourself some more credit, Chōji.”

“I see. Is that how you and Temari—?”

“Something like that,” he responded. He closed his eyes and smiled at the name of his fiancée, and then opened them before quickly swimming over to where Gaara and Lee stood. 

“Shikamaru,” Gaara greeted.

“Hey, Gaara,” Shikamaru began, and for the first time in their entirety of knowing each other, he sounded lost. “You know, I’ve been thinking. About Temari and I,” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “I’ve always been scared to be a dad. Marrying her is scary enough, but I don’t know much about raising a kid, I hardly raised Mirai, and I don’t want our child to feel like we aren’t suitable parents. What if I’m a terrible father? Would Temari leave me, would she—“

Gaara half-smiled. “Temari is an excellent caretaker, she’ll be a great mother. And you seem responsible enough to be a great father, don’t be so unsure of yourself,” he exchanged a look with Lee and attempted a joke, “I mean, you couldn’t be worse than our own father, for certain.” 

He expected, almost wanted Lee to laugh, but no laughter came from him nor Shikamaru.

“Hey! Lee!”

The three turned around to find Ittan, who swam up to them, his smile bright. “I heard you’re an excellent swimmer!”

“Well, maybe not excellent, but I have learned to do a good enough job at it!” Lee replied, humble. 

“How about a contest?” Ittan proposed, “I’m the stone’s finest swimmer, you’re probably the leaf’s. Let’s see who can hold their breath the longest!” 

Gaara knew Rock Lee well enough to know he would never refuse a challenge, especially not a friendly one. The leaf-nin grinned, “That would be a great contest!” 

The Kazekage watched him and Ittan swim off and submerge themselves. He wasn’t a fine swimmer himself, so he figured observing the contest would be equally as enjoyable. The pain in his hand had completely subsided, and as his eyes swept over his teammates, he felt his mouth twitch into something larger than just a half-smile— a whole one, a genuine one. How interesting, he thought, that such different people could form a bond so quickly and effortlessly. Naruto would have loved to see it. 


	5. Chapter 5

In the trees just metres away from a river clearing, two ninja with no forehead protectors to indicate their villages sat quietly and carefully, watching the commotion below them unfold. 

The one on the left, a kunoichi, wore her long black hair in four braids— two behind her, moving with the wind, and two smaller ones that rested over the front of her shoulders. She looked down with dark blue eyes at one of the men below her, the one with distinctive red hair, and turned to face her companion. “Isn’t that the Kazekage?”

Her partner, a brown-haired and brown-eyed shinobi who donned a pair of rectangular glasses and a black mask that covered his nose and mouth, looked back at her. “He is.”

“Huh,” the woman huffed. She made a face that symbolized disgust. “To think the Sand would risk their leader’s life like that. And  _we’re_ the rogue ninja? Nothing sounds more rogue to me than sending the  _Kazekage_ out on a suicide mission.” 

Her partner was silent for a moment, but spoke again in a more hushed voice. “I mean, I could see why they did,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “if what I’ve heard is correct, he was recently arranged to be married.”

“I see,” she replied. “He doesn’t want that woman, then. And this is his escape?”

“No,” the brown haired ninja stated, his tone firm, “They never married. She went missing. Apparently he showed no interest in finding her, or marrying her, in the first place— and showed no interest in having children, either. Look at him carefully, Kōzui. Follow his eyes.”

The konoichi, Kōzui, did, and followed Gaara of the Sand’s gaze to another member of the team in front of them: a man with a shiny black bowl cut and scars along the whole of both of his arms. She was puzzled. What was so special about  that guy? “Okay,” she started, “and what am I supposed to be looking at here, Natsuo?”

“You obviously weren’t paying close enough attention,” he said. “That one defeated Toshiko in combat.”

“Yes, I know, I was there for that,” Kōzui snapped, and she rolled her eyes. “But what does that have to do with—“

“He defeated her in  _combat_ ,” the shinobi interrupted, “but he wasn’t the one to finish her off.”

Kōzui narrowed her eyes. “What are you implying?”

She noticed the sarcastic smile Natsuo gave under the mask, it was a given in his expression. “That sand was no work of a leaf ninja,” he said, rather matter-of-factly, and he pointed to the Kazekage, “it was  _his_ sand.”

“Your point being?”

Now her partner was just annoyed. “If you’re so airheaded that you don’t see the obvious, maybe Nagaiyo was wrong to choose you for this mission.”

She turned to him, her expression filled with anger, and made sure her chakra kept her balance steady while she trembled with rage, “I’m warning you, Natsuo, insulting me might be the last thing you ever do. I’d watch your tongue. She might have been wrong in choosing Toshiko, but I for one am not such an easy opponent. I’d like to say the same about you, but all of your analyzing is just more time wasted watching the enemy making progress. I don’t  care what you see, all I see are a bunch of fucking targets.” 

Natsuo chuckled and threw his hands up in front of him, “Hey now, I’m just letting you know. You have to know how your opponent works in order to defeat them. Toshiko didn’t, and look where she ended up.” He watched Kōzui’s face fall and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Those two,” he gestured to the Kazekage and the one with the eyebrow, “they’re working together. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt it if something else were going on between them, as well— it would certainly explain why the Kazekage shows no interest in marriage or children, but that’s just a theory. The bottom line is, they’re a deadly combination. We have to separate them if we want to stand a chance, and study the others. We haven’t seen what the rest of them are capable of yet. With your water style and my earth style, we can certainly do a lot, but quite possibly not enough.”

Kōzui scowled; he was right. “Fair.”

Beneath them, the group continued to splash around and talk amongst each other. “Let’s report back to Nagaiyo,” Natsuo suggested. “Don’t worry about them now. We don’t need to go running after them just yet. Besides, she’ll be angry if we aren’t there for the meeting tonight, and she’s not someone I want to piss off.”

Kōzui grunted in agreement, but lingered a bit longer to watch Gaara swim toward the bushy-browed shinobi, his expression unreadable. She blinked once and then set off behind her partner. Maybe studying the enemy  _would_ be a better approach.


	6. Chapter 6

It was Gaara’s turn to take the overnight watch, but he didn’t mind it. It was the least he could do for his teammates. 

Everyone had retired to their tents a while ago, he reckoned it had been about an hour or so. There were four tents in total; one of them held his brother Kankurō, Kiba, and Rock Lee (along with a space where Gaara himself would usually be), another held Chōjuro, Chōji, Shikamaru, Omoi and Ittan. The third tent held Karui and Kurotsuchi, and the fourth was used as a sort of emergency hospital for worst case scenarios, and it also held everyone’s belongings and headsets. The setup was rather odd, but it was Shikamaru’s idea, so Gaara figured that questioning it was rather pointless; he always knew what he was doing. 

There were no lights of any sort on in any of the tents, meaning everyone was asleep. It was just Gaara now, awake and alone on the grass in front of a fire, with the light of the moon shining through the trees. He looked up to find that it was full, and closed his eyes for a moment. Sometime in the past, the full moon meant absolute hell for him— pure destruction and bloodlust. He had a nightmare about it one of the first nights he was able to sleep, about everything he did that one night in Konoha when he was twelve. It should have looked silly, being twenty years old and still dreading on events that happened over eight years ago, but he couldn’t shake it away. He had done so much evil it was impossible to forget; trying to take the life of Sasuke Uchiha was idiotic enough, but the life of one of his current closest friend, Naruto, he didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it. 

In fact, now that he pondered on it, it was especially nightmarish how he had treated Rock Lee, how he desperately tried to kill him for nothing other than just  _wanting_ to. What was worse was that Lee had never shown him any malice or even treated him like the demon he was back then. He had always treated him like an equal, especially during the exams. He was perhaps more tolerant of him than even Naruto, though the two had a lot in common, believing in will and hard work and never looking down on another human being. The only difference was that Naruto had shared Gaara’s trauma, he understood him perfectly, and that was why he came to forgive the Kazekage; Lee did it because that was just the type of person he was. He had every reason not to forgive him, yet he did anyway. He never had a tailed beast, had probably never felt the same way he and Naruto did, yet there was no hesitation in how tenderly he treated everyone. 

It  _hurt_ Gaara. He didn’t know why, but thinking of how he treated Lee in the past and how the two currently were working together, how willing Lee was to forget everything from back then; Gaara didn’t deserve it— the kindness, the chivalry, the absolute concern in tone whenever the leaf shinobi asked if he was okay. It hurt him not just emotionally, but physically, and he grabbed his chest, clutched at his clothing, exhaled sharply and closed his eyes.  _Why is he so nice to me? Why is he so understanding_? 

In his memory he recalled a single other person accepting him so quickly— Hakuto, a woman he was once forcefully betrothed to. Even still, all of her kindness was faked. Fairly, he didn’t see her in a romantic light either, but he had cared for her in the sense that she reminded him of Naruto in spirit— no, not Naruto, now that he thought about it. The way she accepted him at first, treated him as an equal, and even somewhat in appearance (the hair, the muscles and scars from training), she was more similar to Rock Lee than Naruto. The difference was not just in gender or even eyebrows, but in behavior. In reality, the entire time they spent together, Hakuto had feared him and never truly cared for him; Lee, on the other hand, had never feared him, and if Gaara trusted anyone’s sincerity in actions, it was his. He wondered if he has considered back then, in the back of his mind, that that could have been the reason for letting her and Shigezane run off together; it was the chance he never got to let Lee go during the exams. He wasn’t sure if that was even a valid hypothesis, but it made so much sense to him the more he thought. 

But what could that _mean_? He had only ever felt strongly for his siblings and Naruto, but this— the way he felt about Rock Lee— was something else entirely. It was similar, but it was also very different. Something he couldn’t recognize. Why did he feel so strongly for him? Was it regret? No. There was without a doubt regret involved, but there had to be something else to it, he just didn’t know what. He wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to know what, he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to understand all of these complex emotions all at once. Everything felt so overwhelming. It had to be the full moon, Gaara thought, that was casting a sort of placebo on him, making him feel emotional despite not being a jinchuuriki anymore.

The sudden _crack_ _!_ of a stick behind him caused what little hair he had on his arms and neck stand up full stop, but he didn’t sense enemy chakra. It was familiar chakra. 

He whipped around to see none other than Rock Lee himself, frozen on the spot where the twig had cracked. He looked guilty for a second, but smiled nonetheless. “Hi, Gaara-kun! I am sorry if I startled you, I did not mean to sneak up on you, I just could not fall asleep for the life of me! I meant to ask if i could join you in watch tonight, you know, the more eyes the better!”

Gaara stared at him, the way the lights of both the moon and fire danced in reflections off of his black hair, tried his best to shake off his thoughts, and turned back around. “I guess.” 

“Amazing!” Lee exclaimed, and he sat down beside Gaara on the grass. 

They sat silently, the Kazekage’s eyes fixed on the fire; he couldn’t bring himself to look at Lee, not right now. It was odd enough how he had thought of the jōnin so heavily that he’d practically summoned him, and now he had to continue thinking about the mysteries of the leaf ninja while he was sitting right beside him. Of all people riddled with real mysteries in the five nations, why did he have to be so concerned with the most forward person he’d ever met? Why wasn’t it easier? 

“You are especially quiet tonight,” Lee commented, breaking the silence, “Not that you are not always quiet, but tonight you seem rather troubled, Gaara-kun.”

Gaara’s eyes widened with shock;  _how did he know?_ There was no way he could read his mind,  _was there?_ He suddenly felt very vulnerable. He didn’t respond.

Unfortunately, it was just like Lee to not give up. “If you would ever like to talk about it, I am always here to listen! I will not judge you!”

There was no getting around it, Gaara figured. If they were going to be sitting there all night, and they were, Lee would certainly not drop the matter. In a way it was admiring, but also exhausting. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to dodge around direct topic of thought. “I was... remembering something.”

“Remembering what?”

“I was almost married once,” Gaara began, and he found himself opening his eyes to look at Lee’s reaction, searching for an unknown expression. He found surprise, but nothing more. _What was I looking for?_

“You were? Wow! I never knew that! That is incredible! So you have been in love before?”

He moved his eyes back to the flames. “No,” he admitted, “I don’t understand romantic love. I’m unsure if I ever will; it was an arranged marriage. Her name was Hakuto. I was just remembering how she treated me, like an equal, even though she knew nothing about me. It... reminded me of someone,” he quickly looked back to Lee, who seemed intrigued yet puzzled. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to catch on. Gaara exhaled in relief, “Anyway, she ended up faking everything. She never cared about me. The entire time, she loved someone else, and they conspired to kill me so they could run away together. As you know, I am not easy to kill. I had Shikamaru lead them out and let them go. I always thought it was the human in me that let me spare them, but tonight, I realised that I did it because I hadn’t got the chance to spare the pain I had caused the person she reminded me of.”

“That is very honorable,” Lee noted, and when Gaara looked up at him, his expression had changed, but he was still clueless. “Did you have feelings for her?”

“No.”

Lee looked puzzled for a moment. “Well, even if she had loved you, it would not have worked out! If you ever want a wife in the future, you need to have romantic feelings for her!”

_A wife in the future_ _._ Gaara almost felt dismayed. “I... don’t think I want one,” he said slowly, and it came out uncertain, but he thought about it for a moment, and realised that he truly didn’t want a wife. Not anytime soon, he was sure. 

He watched Lee’s eyes widen dramatically in shock. “That is absurd! Do you not desire the beauty of youthful, eternal love?” 

“I don’t know,” Gaara replied honestly. “I’m not sure how those feelings work, I’ve never understood them.”

“It is a wonderful feeling!” Lee proclaimed, and he seemed excited, which brought a little bit of joy into Gaara’s heart, “When I had a crush on Sakura, I was always excited to see her, I vowed to protect her, and I always wanted to be around her! But she never reciprocated, so I gave up, but I am sure that you and I will find that special someone someday!”

Now Gaara was the puzzled one. “A _crush?_ That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

Rock Lee’s laughter could have woken anyone up, but somehow, it didn’t. “It is indeed very pleasant! A crush is when you have an intense infatuation with someone! Crushes make you feel bizarre new emotions--like feeling shy and uncontrollably giddy at the same time! Usually, having a crush on someone means you really, _really_ like them in a romantic way! Having a romantic crush means that you want to be with that person in more than just a friendly sense— you want to be their romantic partner! You fantasize about kissing, holding hands with, or being held by that person! That is how I felt about Sakura! Sometimes you do not know how to react around them and you find yourself a little confused and lost, but Guy-Sensei always told me that is totally normal!”

It was amazing to Gaara how quickly he could become taken aback. His entire face burned; there was no way.  _Was there?_ “I see. I think I understand.” 

Lee staring at him made his face burn even hotter. He looked surprised. “ _A-ha!_ So you  _have_ had a romantic crush before! Was it on Sakura, too? Ino? Hinata? Perhaps even Naruto?” 

This was too much to take in, too much for Gaara to comprehend or speak on. He looked away and changed the topic as quickly as possible, “You’ve always listened.” He didn’t dare look at Lee, but the silence that followed was what he assumed to be his permission to continue, “Whenever I talk about my past, or talk about anything. You have always listened. It amazes me. You never judge me or expect anything from me, it’s different— different than even Naruto. You ask if I’m okay. I’m never asked that, everyone just... assumes that I am. I always figured that it’s because I’m needed to lead the Sand—“

“You are more than just needed, Gaara-kun!” Lee interrupted, “You are wanted! Some politicians may say that they need you, sure, but your siblings, Naruto, and even I, want you around! You might think that I am the one teaching _you_ right now, in means of taijutsu, but you are also teaching _me_ in a way as well!”

Gaara was flustered and nearly at a complete loss for words. He stared at the shinobi beside him. _“_ _How?”_

“To overcome the hardest obstacle!” Lee said, his tone very matter-of-fact, “Being isolated, feeling like nobody wants you around, but proving them all wrong! That is something you have helped teach me for a long time!”

By now, all of the emotions Gaara was feeling were starting to seep out in his tone. “Lee...”

“Forgive the change in topic, but I have a question I would like to ask you!” Gaara didn’t say anything in response; he just let him continue, “You seem very uneasy when it comes to touch. Every friend and teammate I have had has at least given me a pat on the back or shoulder, yet you seem to resent it. May I ask why such a common thing is so critical to you?”

Gaara looked away. He knew that it wasn’t in Lee to intentionally try and break down the walls of his emotional barriers, but he had done it. He felt defeated. “From childhood up until Shukaku was extracted from me, nobody wanted to be anywhere near me,” he responded, his voice wavering,“They were all terrified of me. Since then, I’ve kept my distance from everyone. I was shocked you were able to do it so quickly. It gets to the point where I long for it sometimes, but since I was that monster—“

“ _No!_ ” Lee nearly shouted, and Gaara’s widened eyes found his expression to be thick with emotion, “Do not say that, Gaara-kun! You were never a monster! Shukaku might have been sealed inside of you, but deep down, you have always been Gaara! It was neglect, abuse, and others’ fear of you that made you feel like you were a monster; they convinced you that you  _were_ the one tailed because of how they treated you! The real you has always been there— caring, understanding— and you have long since outgrown that part of you that you resent so deeply! Guy-Sensei always told our team that it is always important to be better today than you were yesterday! You are living proof that anyone can change, and that fact alone makes you admirable— more than admirable enough to become someone’s most precious person!” 

The dam inside of Gaara broke. _To become precious_. He had always wanted to mean something so significant to someone, to have someone care about him to that extent— or at the very least, have someone tell him he was worthy enough of being so. His eyes began to water and he felt the tears fall before he could stop them. He hadn’t cried in a long time, but somehow, it felt so good to let it out. He found himself seemingly instinctively extending his hand and clutching onto Lee’s arm, who looked fairly surprised.  _ The sensation of touch. How minute of a thing to appreciate, but how crucial to long for.  _

Gaara couldn’t have predicted Lee’s following actions even if he were able to see into the future. The leaf shinobi pulled on his arm, tugged on his body until they were locked into an embrace— a tight hug that sent all of the darkness in the emotions that clouded his flooded brain far away. He felt secure, yet, in a way, vulnerable. He sobbed onto Rock Lee’s shoulder, his body trembling as each gasp for air left his mouth. He didn’t care if anyone saw him like this, not even Kankuro. He didn’t care what all of this new information meant. He didn’t care about vulnerability anymore. He just knew he wanted to be right where he was right now, and maybe that was all he needed to know.

Lee’s fingers rested in his hair and he placed his chin on top of Gaara’s head, his tone comforting as he whispered, “It is okay, Gaara-kun; I am here with you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Gaara awoke without realising he had fallen asleep, the sunlight guiding his eyes open. To his surprise, he found his head still in Rock Lee’s lap, who was very much conscious and seemingly unbothered by the younger man having slept in his lap. 

The Kazekage panicked for a moment; he recalled their entire conversation the night before. He wondered if Lee had caught on on or not (he almost feared that he did) and sat upright with such suddenty that it startled the leaf shinobi. 

Lee seemed to sense his panic. “Do not worry, Gaara-kun,” he said calmly, “You simply cried yourself into exhaustion last night. Do not beat yourself up about it! It is totally okay to be vulnerable! It shows your humanity! You seemed quite peacefuł in your sleep. Did you dream?”

“No,” Gaara stated outright, and it was odd because he didn’t. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep. He backed a few more inches away cautiously, not wanting to seen so rude as to appear like he didn’t want to be around the other man, and then stood to stretch. 

Lee spoke before Gaara was able to, “If you are feeling capable, I would like to teach you the basic stances and exercises this morning while your hand is recovering! It will help you when the time comes for us to train further!”

_ My...hand? Oh, right_ , Gaara remembered, and he looked down at his left hand as he clenched it; he had busted his knuckles the day before. He nodded solemnly in agreement. 

“Excellent!” Lee exclaimed, and he pumped a single fist down with excitement, “We shall go to the riverbed again right now!”

Gaara sighed. There was so much energy in the leaf shinobi it was almost unbelievable. He stood, unmoving, and watched Lee literally do a backflip off of the ground to stand, before following him to the clearing he had trained alone the day before. 

Somehow, he still couldn’t shake the night before out of his head. The talk, the emotions, the hug— the way the lights shone on the leaf ninja’s hair. Even now, as they were heading towards the river, he watched the sunlight do the same, and he still, after sleeping on it, felt equally as vulnerable yet equally as secure. The only difference was that he wanted to explore what all of this new information meant— he wanted to experience it again, no matter how hard his conscience warned him not to admit it to himself.

When they arrived at the riverbed, and Lee stopped, he began to stretch, the muscles in his arms rippling under his scarred skin. Gaara couldn’t help but stare; how could he train that hard all the time and not have run himself ragged? Truly remarkable.

“First step,” the leaf shinobi said, interrupting Gaara’s thought process completely, “You must stretch and ready your body for vigorous exercise! Copy my exact movements and you will find the exercises we perform to be much less excruciating than normal!”

_Less excruciating than normal_. Did that mean the exercises were  _supposed_ to be painful? The Kazekage stared at him before eventually deciding they were too far in to stop now, and he studied each movement; he lifted his arms as if he were reaching for something to high for him as Lee did, twisted his torso until his back popped like Lee’s did. When the leaf shinobi sat on the grass and bent until he was touching his own feet, Gaara did the same (only Gaara could hardly touch his own toes). It was almost like a dance of sorts; the more Gaara moved, the less stiff his body became. 

The mirroring seemed to last for an hour or so before Rock Lee stopped moving and let out a long sigh, “That was refreshing! Now for the second step: dodging! You have mimicked my stance before, so I am sure that will be quite easy for you, but what I am going to teach you today will take a lot of practice! Please try not to use your sand!”

“Try not to use my sand? Why?”

“Because that would be cheating!” Lee said, and he posed, seemingly waiting for Gaara to do the same, but when he did, he launched himself forward, “Avoid me at all costs!” he shouted, “Duck, move as fast as you can, do whatever it takes, do not let me touch you!” 

It took more concentration than Gaara would have expected for him to avoid using his sand to simply block Lee from getting closer. He froze for a moment; the other man was coming at him so rapidly and he was so close that he would surely knock Gaara back, possibly even into the river. At the last second, though, he quickly ducked to the left out of range, just in time for Lee to completely miss his hit.

“Very good, Gaara-kun! I did not expect you to dodge that one!”

The praise was uplifting for a moment— until he realised it was Lee’s intention not to miss. “You were planning on hitting me?”

Lee laughed, sheepishly putting his hand behind his head. “Not exactly! I simply was not expecting you to move!”

It was a joke. Not like one of Kankurō’s or Naruto’s though; Kankurō and Naruto had different forms of humour, ones that weren’t similar at all to each other or Lee’s. Something about the sincerity of this one caused something strange to happen to Gaara— something he hadn’t had happen in a long time. The sound itself caught him off guard, as well as the smile and the shaking of his body that came with it. He had laughed— a small sound that was full of amusement. 

He covered his mouth when he noticed Lee’s eyes widen. He’d noticed it, too. “I do not think that I have ever heard you laugh before,” he said quietly, moreso to himself than directly to Gaara, “That is... very new.” His expression was unreadable, and the sand shinobi suddenly found himself embarrassed. He must have sensed that Gaara didn’t want to speak on it, though, because his expression completely changed back to excitable and professional, “Anyway, we should carry on! I am going to come at you with more speed this time, try jumping out of the way instead of ducking when you see me up close this time!” 

Lee ran towards Gaara again, a bit faster than before, with a bit more of a determined expression on his face. Right when he was close enough to him, Gaara jumped up, a bit delayed. Instead of missing completely, Lee made contact with his legs and brought him down. At first, it seemed intentional— that was, until Gaara found himself on his back on the grass, winded, with a shaken up Rock Lee directly on top of him. 

They were so close now that Gaara could feel Lee’s breath on his face, which he felt burning up with shame. They might have hugged the night before, but there was something about the position they were in now that made Gaara feel... well, he didn’t actually know  _how_ he felt. He didn’t even know if he  _wanted_ to know or not. The very question seemed to torment him, yet he felt as though he could lay there and look at the leaf shinobi all afternoon, really, if that were the way they’d train. He almost kind of liked being this close to someone else. 

Lee stared down at him, his own face as red as Gaara’s hair, eyes wide open. “G-Gaara-kun, I— I am so sorry! Please forgive me, I miscalculated my step! I did not expect you to jump straight upwards— it was entirely an accident! I did not mean to—“

“It’s alright,” Gaara murmured. He moved his hand up and decided, since they were this close again already, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to touch him again, too. He chose to touch Lee’s shoulder, which propped him up so that their faces weren’t squished together, a gentle and amicable graze that Lee accepted with a little surprise in his eyes. The sense of security he had felt the night before returned to him, “I’m not hurt. I feel...”

“Hey, I know I should probably walk away right now because a part of me feels like I’m intruding, but—“

The voice was not Lee’s, but Kankurō’s, Gaara recognised it instantly. He felt himself instantly grow pale and his blood went cold; how vulnerable he must have appeared to his older sibling to not only have been caught without his defenses, but pinned underneath Rock Lee in defeat. He was horrified. He turned his head and locked eyes with Kankuro, visibly in utter shock and very clearly embarrassed. 

“No, I assure you, it is not what it looks like! This was entirely an accident!” Lee proclaimed, and he, too, looked humiliated. “We were simply training! I overanalysed my steps and as a result—“

“ _Right_ , an _‘_ _accident’_ , ” Kankurō scoffed. He rolled his eyes and turned back around before glancing over his shoulder and adding, “Look, I really could not give less of shit what was or was not happening before I walked into this. I just came here to tell you guys that Shikamaru wants everyone to meet up as soon as possible. So, for the time being, bushy brows, I’m going to kindly ask that you get off of my little brother.”

Gaara couldn’t even think comprehensively at that point. Kankurō knew him well enough to pick apart how he was feeling almost all the time; there was no doubt that he could tell exactly what was going on— not in what was physically happening in front of him, but what Gaara was truly thinking during the moment. The thought terrified him. Kankuro knew more about general humam emotions than he did; he was far more experienced. He quite possibly knew more about Gaara’s own emotions than Gaara himself, and the Kazekage didn’t know what he was going to do about it. It would be an awkward conversation and a scary confrontation— no matter what the outcome, there was nothing the younger sibling could do to avoid it. 

Rock Lee quickly rolled off of him, shouted, “Right!” and headed for camp without a second glance. The loss of warmth hit Gaara hard, he almost felt disappointed. If they had just been left alone, he could have figured something out by now, be it an emotion, clear thought, or just something to say. He watched the leaf ninja until he was out of sight, then turned his gaze to Kankuro, who was still waiting on him to move.

Gaara looked at him helplessly before his mouth finally moved, his voice broken in nervous shards of glass, “Kankurō...”

Kankurō closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “Listen, the last thing I want to do is run my mouth, I do that enough without you involved. I’m not saying a word to anyone about this. Believe it or not, even I know that some things are just meant to be private and left alone. This is one of those things. And as far as advice goes, I don’t have much to offer you this time, plus I’m generally bad at giving advice; I’ve never understood why you and Temari listen to me. I’m the master of puppets, not the master of fucking politics or words— that’s all you two, Baki, and even Naruto. It doesn’t matter that puppeteering, speeches, and politics all seem kind of similar in a way. Similar doesn’t mean identical, I couldn’t talk a whole battalion into fighting for me the way I can manipulate my puppets with my hands. Anyway, that’s beside the point. 

“Point is, sometimes I just can’t figure you out, Gaara. You might think I can, but even if I could read everything going on inside your head right now, it wouldn’t be my job to tell you what I read. Hell, the way you look right now, you’re probably just as confused as me, and neither of us are easy to confuse. The way I see it, though, it’s alright to be confused; it’s part of how you learn. Some emotions start out with a big question mark over them and you don’t know what they are, what they mean, or what to do with them, sometimes you just have to let them happen, and you figure out what they are later on. What’s new and confusing to you could be thirty years old and common to some other shinobi. All that matters is that you let yourself feel it, the rest will come to you on its own.”

It was like a light switch had been turned on inside of Gaara’s mind; his brother was right. Maybe constantly questioning how he was feeling wasn’t how he was supposed to go about it. He finally stood up, brushed the grass on his clothes off, and silently followed his brother back to camp.

When they returned, everyone else on the team was already sitting on the grass near the fire pit, gathered around Shikamaru, who had been waiting for an amount of time Gaara was unsure of. He appreciated the patience, though, and found a spot in between Kiba, Akamaru and Kankurō.

Shikamaru reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll, the seal already broken. “This came in this morning,” he began, “Not for me in particular, but fortunately I was awake and present for the bird that sent it. If this had fallen into the wrong hands, we’d probably be in for a lot of trouble. That being said, there’s a storm headed our way tomorrow morning— a big one, we’ll likely see a lot of rain. We’ve been offered shelter as well as intel on the enemy, the only catch is who it is offering it. A majority of you guys aren’t going to like this, but personally, I think we need to trust the opportunity and take it regardless.”

“Who sent it?” Kiba asked, the tone in his voice skeptical. He narrowed his eyes. “We’re far from any village; we made sure we took the most discreet route so that nobody knew what we were doing. How did anyone know where we were?”

“I couldn’t tell you how,” Shikamaru responded, “but given the person this came from, I’m not surprised we were discovered.”

“Is it Sasuke Uchiha?” Gaara heard Kurotsuchi ask. She was sitting beside Karui and her fellow Iwagakure shinobi, Ittan. She looked equallt as distrustful as Kiba. “He’s the only one Lord Hokage told about this mission. If it’s not him, why should we trust it? This could be a trap.”

“First off, it’s not from Sasuke,” said Shikamaru. He sighed, closed his eyes, then added, “Second off, it isn’t a trap. This message came from Lord Orochimaru.” 

A few murmurs and gasps came from different people in the circle, but it was Rock Lee who spoke out. Gaara’s eyes shifted to him instantly. He was between Chōji and Chōjūrō, and by the look on his face, he didn’t seem to be as disgusted as either of them. “If there is one thing I know about Lord Orochimaru, it is that he is too intelligent and too skilled to simply offer us a place to go and enemy information as a trap! If he wanted to trap us, he probably would have already done it— especially if he has known our location this entire time! He iscertainly not without faults, I will admit, but he has not caused any issues any time recently; why would he try to do so now?”

“Trusting Orochimaru,” Kiba scoffed, “What’s next, just going ahead and  handing ourselves over to the enemy?”

“Look, I hate to destroy your egos, but Lord Orochimaru has never needed any of us,” Shikamaru explained, “The skills we possess now? He’s already mastered them all, and he mastered them  _ years ago _ . Like Lee said, if he wanted to trap us, he would have done it a different way and he would have already tried. He  _ is _ one of the legendary sannin, and, if you don’t remember, he saved Lady Tsunade’s life— not to mention he’s constantly under the leaf’s surveillance anyway. I’m not saying we go in there with our guards down, but if we don’t accept his help right now, everything we have will be destroyed in the storm tomorrow morning. We’re already half a day’s trip from his residence, which he was kind enough to map out for us. Not only has he offered us information on the people we’re up against, but he‘s willing to give us shelter from a storm that would delay our mission. If Naruto, Sasuke, or even Lady Tsunade were given this opportunity instead of us, what do you think they’d do? I can’t speak for two of them, but Naruto  _did_ invite Lord Orochimaru to his wedding, y’know.”

There was a silence for a moment— a silence that Gaara took advantage of. He trusted Rock Lee and Shikamaru enough to agree with them; he knew Naruto would, too. “Naruto taught me that anyone can change, no matter their past. He firmly believes in that, and none of us would be here if not for him. If you all don’t remember, there was a time where most of you hated me, too. And here I am, training with someone I’ve tried to kill years ago, part of a team of people I would have hated when I was younger. I agree with Shikamaru. We should accept this offer gratefully.” 

Shikamaru looked at him with appreciation, “So. Is that an order from the Kazekage? I’m not a team captain here, I’m merely a jōnin. We all are. You’re the highest ranked of all of us.”

“Not an order,” Gaara responded, and he looked over the circle before catching Lee’s eyes, which were shining with admiration, “a suggestion. It’s what Naruto would do, therefore it’s what I will do.”

A slap on the back from Kankurō caught him off guard; he broke his eye contact with Lee and looked up at him. He was smiling. “Well, I can’t just let my little brother go walking into Orochimaru’s front door alone, can I? Guess that means I’m in.”

“I will also be joining you!” Lee exclaimed.

“Fine,” Kurotsuchi joined in, “if Lord Kazekage thinks Naruto would trust it, I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

“As long as Orochimaru knows how to prepare a good meal,” Chōji added lightheartedly, “I’ll go wherever you go, Shikamaru!”

One by one, everyone in the circle eventually agreed, the last being Kiba, who merely nodded and said nothing more on the matter. Shikamaru smiled, “Great, now that we’re all on the same page, we should pack up and head out— preferably as quickly as possible. We don’t want to get stuck in that storm.” The shinobi around him dispersed immediately to take down the tents and prepare for the trip, and then it was just him and Gaara on the grass. “You’re almost as good at talking as Naruto,” he joked, “Thanks for that, Gaara.”

Gaara felt himself smiling, a sense of warmth rushing over him. “You are very welcome, Shikamaru.” He watched his teammates for a moment; they were all so different from each other, yet all extremely capable ninja despite the fact. He was grateful for them. More specifically, for his brother Kankuro, who seemed to be scolding Akamaru for knocking Karasu off its resting place; and for Lee, who was packing his own things into a bag by himself silently. Gaara thought of their earlier incident, their hug the previous night, their bonding that came from seemingly nowhere; it was, he decided, precious to him, no matter the specifics of it. Those, as Kankurō had put it earlier, would come to him on their own. He thanked Naruto in his mind for this new bond, even if Naruto himself wasn’t aware that it was happening.

Gaara averted his eyes back to Shikamaru. “I’ll always do what I think is best for this team,” he promised. “I care a great deal for it— the same way I care about my village— and I would gladly give my life to defend it.”


	8. Chapter 8

After half a day of consistent travelling, Gaara and the rest of the team finally arrived in old Otagakure country, to what appeared to be a hideout that seemed rather freshly-constructed, shrouded by the darkness of the shade of the trees and looming storm clouds.

It was early in the morning, and Gaara could almost smell the oncoming rain in the air; had it been an hour later, they would have been caught in it for sure. He scanned the area to verify that all of his teammates were around him before taking the first step forward. He was immediately halted, however, as two ninja dropped down in front of the hideout’s entrance. One of them was a redheaded kunoichi who donned a pair of glasses, the other a white-haired shinobi with a large sword on his back. They were both wearing purple, but given the location, they didn’t quite seem like they were the enemy. 

“What’s your business here?” the kunoichi asked, tone defensive.

“Eleven ninja from different villages?” her counterpart added, “Should we tell Lord Orochimaru we’re under attack?” His eyes, purple and skeptical, raked over the entire team, until they landed on Chōjūrō. “And a mist swordsman? What the hell is going on here?”

Chōjūrō eyed the shinobi and the sword on his back before speaking to Gaara, who was next to him, “That sword once belonged to Zabuza Momochi,” he mumbled, “That one’s from the mist.”

To Gaara’s surprise, Rock Lee spoke out. He immediately turned to the leaf shinobi, who surprisingly seemed pleased. “I remember you!” he exclaimed, and it was directed at the kunoichi in front of them, “Lord Hokage brought you back to the leaf after Sasuke killed Danzo! Kiba was there, too!”

Kiba, who was already in a defensive pose alongside Akamaru, paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes before seemingly deciding that she wasn’t a threat. “Yeah, actually. I think I do remember her.” 

The kunoichi’s red eyes wavered between the two and softened. “Suigetsu, lay off. These are Naruto and Sasuke-kun’s friends.” 

“All of them?” The shinobi asked, confused. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t be so naïve, Karin. The Kazekage, a mist swordsman, and the granddaughter of the Tsuchikage, altogether? This is an infiltration.”

“You idiot,” she snapped back, “If this was an infiltration they would have tried to fight already!” 

“Who says they aren’t going to?”

They began arguing between themselves, and Gaara quickly glanced at Shikamaru, who was directly beside him and clearly dumbfounded. “At this rate we’ll be rained on. What a drag.”

“Suigetsu. Karin. Stop harrassing our guests.”

The voice was easily distinguishable from behind them, and everyone quickly fell silent. Orochimaru stepped out of the darkness of the hideout and stood between the two, his arms crossed.

Gaara was in shock at the appearance of his former enemy; he seemed even younger than before, somehow. His facial features had softened, his skin more fair, and his hair was tied back in a low ponytail behind his head. He no longer wore the same attire the Kazekage had seen in their last meeting years ago, but a white and blue robe, blue pants, and sandals. Gaara wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel threatened by him in the moment the way he had before when he, Naruto, Bee and Fū met in combat. 

The entire team behind him seemed surprised, too, especially Shikamaru, given the expression on his face. “Lord Orochimaru?”

The snake sannin chuckled. “You all seemed surprised to see my newer body. You should know me by now.” He turned around and glanced over his shoulder, “We built this little shelter just for the mission, it would be a shame if it went to waste. Do come in, you wouldn’t want to get caught in this storm, would you?”

The three of them began walking into the hideout, and though the team seemed hesitant to follow, they began to walk behind them, with Gaara and Shikamaru taking the lead. 

Orochimaru led them down a long hallway between a row of rooms, the brown walls lit up with bright lights to give the place a bit more appeal. Gaara wondered what each of the rooms held— what the sannin could be working on behind all of the closed doors. He wasn’t as skeptical as he was curious; he knew Orochimaru would have attacked them already if that was truly his plan. At the same time, he couldn’t help but to ponder his motives. What could he possibly gain from aiding them in this mission, and how did he even find out about it in the first place?

They finally stopped at an open door on the left side of the hallway. Gaara noted the room number above the door, 103, before following Suigetsu, Karin, and Orochimaru inside. 

It seemed like an office of sorts— bright lights, a few countertops, scattered papers, and a large table in the middle. Gaara found it particularly odd that the number of chairs at the table were equivalent to the number of ninja on his team and Orochimaru’s: fourteen exactly. How did he know how many people would be attending? 

They all filed in and took seats, Gaara quickly and subconsciously grabbing the one next to Rock Lee, putting himself between the leaf shinobi and Suigetsu, who was beside Orochimaru at the head of the table. 

Once everyone was seated, Orochimaru propped his elbows onto the surface. “I’m sure you all are wondering what I have planned and how I know about this little mission,” he began, “So I’ll tell you everything I know. You can decide whether or not to trust me after that.”

With a smile that seemed very unlike him, he continued, “A few days ago, I got a message from someone I haven’t seen in a long time. I’ve been advised by them and the Hokage to gather as much information as I can regarding these rogue ninja you’re after, as well as provide you with shelter and assistance, should you require it. You should know by now that I have a very apt prowess with gathering information. 

“Through one of my snakes, I managed to find about these ninja; where they’re residing, what they’re after, and I even managed to pick up a bit of detail on the leader of their organisation. In the case that you don’t believe me, let me remind you that I not only helped in saving Tsunade’s life, but fought alongside you all in the Fourth Shinobi War some time ago, with the aid of the four Hokage. I no longer seek the destruction of the leaf. Their anbu has a constant eye on me, and as annoying as it is, I have nothing suspicious planned— especially now, when  _all_ of the five nations are in danger. 

“This rogue ninja group call themselves the Saibankan. As the name suggests, they consider themselves the judges of true power, and their purpose is to establish a new world in which the only people alive are those they deem powerful enough to live. Seeing as I’ve sought power as long as I have, I found a very distinct difference in their way as opposed to my own: they want to destroy every hidden village and person who resides in it without any notable jutsu. They recruit potential members by having pre-established members from their former villages send them manipulative letters offering a chance to abandon their normal daily lives for one that serves a ‘greater cause.’ Once a potential member leaves their village, they are then placed in a tournament to the death with another potential member, with the victor given the opportunity to join their alliance. If they for some reason refuse the offer, they’re murdered, not just for the sake of keeping the entire organisation a secret, but under the belief that a person is weak if they refuse the Saibankan way of life.

“As of now there are eleven members in their group— formerly twelve, but you all were fortunate enough to take one of them out. Each of these ninja has mastery over at least one elemental chakra nature, including lightning style and fire style. They might be easier to take down in groups, but their leader is a completely different case.

“She is called Nagaiyo, and as much as I’ve searched I’ve found no information on her background. While the others are merely elementally powerful, she has used the forbidden Chimera Technique to absorb two kekkei genkai that could potentially cause devastation to your entire team. She is capable of using Blood Release and often uses it to turn the iron from her blood into weapons for both herself and her subordinates. Using your own blood, naturally, drains you of chakra rather quickly— which is why she has also absorbed Dark Release, which is far more dangerous. With her Dark Release, she can not only absorb and expel the chakra of an enemy, but use their chakra to continue using her Blood Release. Unless you have immense chakra, like Sasuke, or even myself, for example, she can drain you until there is nothing left.

“Their entire organisation poses a greater threat to your villages, and even to my own experiments, than you might have originally thought— which is why I’ve chosen to aid you in this mission as opposed to ignoring it. You need to be prepared for anything to happen.”

A tense silence followed as Orochimaru finished. Gaara’s mind raced; this was far worse than Kakashi could have predicted. He tried to think of the best outcome. Even if they could take out Nagaiyo’s subordinates first, she could quite possibly wipe them all out by absorbing all of their chakra. Naruto and Sasuke weren’t a part of the mission; how were they supposed to pull this off without either of them? 

Gaara looked at Lee for a moment, who lacked a readable expression, before his head turned to follow Kurotsuchi’s voice. “Why should we believe anything you’re saying?” she asked, and though she sounded firm, there was fear in her eyes, “For all we know, you could be working with them!”

Orochimaru smiled at her, “Even if I were, I wouldn’t tell you either way. Still, it’s up to you whether or not you can believe me and accept my aid. You should know by now that my means of deception are far more complex than inviting you to meet and feeding you lies.” He removed his elbows from the table as though he were preparing to wrap up, “If you do choose to accept, you can use this little hideout as a sort of base. I already have rooms prepared for each of you, and a kitchen hall in room 156. The choice is ultimately yours to make.” 

“Very well,” Kurotsuchi replied, defeated, “I accept.”

“I accept the offer as well!” said Rock Lee, “If this is our only chance at completing our mission, then I shall do whatever it takes!” 

Gaara felt the now-familiar warmth wash over him again as Lee looked at him for approval. He couldn’t refuse. “I accept.”

“Where my little brother goes, I go,” said Kankurō, who was wedged between Chōjūrō and Karui. “I can’t just leave him, y’know? I accept.”

Chōji was the next to agree. “As long as there’s a kitchen hall, you can count me in, right Shikamaru?” 

Shikamaru rolled his eyes, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess. I accept.”

“Like Lee said, whatever it takes!” exclaimed Ittan from the farthest end of the table.

The remaining five members of the team agreed, and to Gaara’s surprise, Kiba wasn’t as defensive in his tone as the Kazekage expected him to be. 

“Excellent,” Orochimaru said, once everyone had accepted. He stood up from his seat and gave the group a final smile, “Then this meeting is over. Suigetsu, Karin, show everyone to their rooms. We’ll meet again tomorrow.”

Gaara stood up alongside Lee and Suigetsu and followed suit out of the room. How peculiar, he thought, that they were accepting the help of _Lord Orochimaru_ of all people— to the point of possibly even fighting with him in combat. As he walked with his group, he couldn’t help but to wonder what Naruto would think.


	9. Chapter 9

Deep in a cave in Mountains’ Graveyard, a meeting between eleven ninja began, with each person sitting at a stone table surrounded by candles. There were candles lit for each member present, and a candle that had died near an empty seat that signifed the meeting was intended to be held for twelve. 

The woman at the head of the table waited patiently for the group to settle. She was a white-haired kunoichi with eyes as red as blood, with a marking on her forehead similar to that of a medic-nin; the only difference being that her two diamond-shaped markings overlapped, and were capable of absorbing far more chakra and expel it all the same. 

She was annoyed, presumably at the empty seat. Once everyone was seated and silent, she took a breath before speaking, her voice cold, “Toshiko is dead. We’re down a number. Natsuo, Kōzui, what did you see?”

The brown-haired shinobi with glasses and a mask paled a bit. “She battled a taijutsu user from the leaf,” he began, “one possibly greater than her.”

“Kōzui?”

The black-haired kunoichi’s dark blue eyes shifted down. “It’s true, Lady Nagaiyo. She was defeated in a matter of minutes.”

Nagaiyo stifled her annoyance, and glanced at the empty seat before surveying her other teammates. Aside from Kōzui and Natsuo, she still had capable members. She looked over at Shizuka, the lightning style user from the cloud. He was devastion. His long grey hair rested in a high ponytail, a few strands let down to pool on his shoulders, his unforgiving yellow eyes sharp. She didn’t want to send him out just yet. She needed him later.

Next to him was Kaito Minami of the mist, a master of both kenjustu and water style. He was rather unique in appearance, one not so typical to see in Kirigakure. Short purple hair with two green streaks, orange eyes, darker in skin tone than the rest, a piercing that hooked between his nostrils. He was an unpredictable opponent. She couldn’t send him yet either. Besides, he wasn’t too good at collecting information.

Nagaiyo’s eyes raked to Kenzou of the stone and immediately decided she wouldn’t send him. Kenzou was absolutely destructive and killed every opponent he’d been put up against. He was a tall and muscular shinobi, a prowess in strength and earth style. His teeth were like razors in his mouth; she knew his bloodlust. Sending Kenzou to gather information would lead to no information at all— just chaos.

Hikōha of the sand, a kunoichi who specialised in weaponry. She was too valuable for this particular mission (despite her unhealthy desire for money). She sat in her spot confidently, her hair in two low buns right above her shoulders, blue eyes glistening with opportunity. Nagaiyo wouldn’t send her, either; she’d likely bring the information, but it was money she craved more than anything else. If she were to be sent out, it would have to be with a bigger group after it was ensured that their opponents didn’t have a weapons master with them. 

Dai, the blonde haired and green eyed orphan of the Leaf, was another one she couldn’t risk without sending him in a larger group. He was simply too young and too inexperienced. At only fifteen, he was capable of incredible fire style jutsu, but he was still in training. He would have to wait. 

There were three in particular Nagaiyo could not send out until absolutely necessary; Kibishī of the Kawa clan from the mist, one of the greatest water style users in all of the five nations. She was too important. She sat beside Dai, whom she’d taken a liking to as if he were her own child, her short and wavy pale-indigo hair gently blowing with the flickering of the candle. Another valuable asset was none other than the third Hokage’s son, Osamu Sarutobi, who was presumed dead by the leaf village. He was far more experienced and older than anyone else in the entire Saibankan; he would serve better as the shock-value and eventual depredation to their opponent.

One particular person was more important than the rest to Nagaiyo: Harikēn of the stone, capable of both earth and wind style. He had been side-by-side with her since they met as rogues many years ago, he was the other hand in creating their entire formation. He was pale, brown-haired,green-eyed, and extremely devout to her and the Saibankan way. He would be the last person she ever sent out; he would fight with her if it ever came down to it, she would have it no other way. 

Nagaiyo exhaled through her nose. “Toshiko was foolish to act alone against an enemy she didn’t know. Her death was next to inevitable. Let her set an example for all of you. Gather information first, fight after.”

“That taijutsu user,” Natsuo spoke up, “He fought her in combat, but he didn’t kill her.”

“What are you saying?” responded Nagaiyo with narrowed eyes. 

Kōzui avoided eye contact with her leader and spoke in Natsuo’s stead, “The Kazekage finished her off. We believe he’s working closely with the taijutsu specialist who fought her. If not for him, she could have recouperated and finished him off, I’m almost certain of it.” 

Nagaiyo almost couldn’t believe it.  _ So Suna sent out their own Kage for this mission? They must  want  _ _him dead._ “Separate them, then,” she said coolly, “They’ll be easier to take out once they’re separated.” 

“The Kazekage has defensive sand,” Natsuo interjected, “It’ll be impossible to touch him.”

“Not impossible,” Nagaiyo stated. She kicked her feet onto the table and leaned back in her seat, casual, “Just difficult. Nothing is impossible. Make sure his guard is down and get him as far away from that taijutsu user and everyone else as possible.”

Natsuo pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the candlelight reflecting off of them. “Right. I’ll do it.”

“I’ll take that taijutsu user out, no problem,” Kōzui offered, determined in tone, “I’ll go with him. Once those two are dealt with, the rest will be next.”

She was always the cockiest of the group. Nagaiyo tried to keep back her annoyance. “Don’t get too confident, Kōzui. We still don’t know what the others are capable of.”

“I did manage to recognize two others,” Natsuo said. “They’re from the stone, as I was. Kurotsuchi, the Tsuchikage’s granddaughter, and another shinobi.” 

“If the others hid behind the Kazekage and that taijutsu user, they shouldn’t be too big of a problem for you,” Nagaiyo responded, “But the purpose of this mission is to get rid of those two and gather more information on the rest. If one of you for some reason dies, I expect the other to retreat to me. Distract the enemy and make your escape. I don’t care which one of you does it, so long as you bring me intel.”

Kōzui snorted. “They’re just targets. Have more faith in us, my lady.”

“Those ‘targets,’ killed a member of our team,” Nagaiyo pointed out firmly, “You should be giving me a reason to have faith in you rather than just asking me to. What’s the point of the Saibankan again? Or have you forgotten?”

The mist kunoichi’s confidence dissipated quickly. She shifted her eyes down. “To prove ourselves,” she mumbled. 

“Then prove yourselves,” Nagaiyo ordered, “Go. I expect a report by tomorrow.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Make sure that you are blocking with both of your arms! I promise not to kick you as hard this time!”

Gaara, dazed, picked himself up from off the ground, and stood up, trying to regain his breath. He’d been training with Lee for over an hour; today’s lesson was learning how block without sand. He’d been successful in learning to not allow his sand to interfere, but as for blocking, he’d just received two back to back kicks, blocked with one arm, and had been knocked back to the point where he was very close to being exhausted. He really gave props to Lee; this was harder than he made it seem.

Once Gaara was up again, Lee nodded before charging toward him, feet forward, and the Kazekage raised his arms in an x in front of him, eyes shut with anticipation of being knocked back again. To his surprise, though, the ‘x,’ formation had worked. He was moved back a little, but still standing, and Lee stood in front of him, beaming.

“Excellent job, Gaara-kun!” he exclaimed, giving him a bright smile, “Now we are going to—“

“Do pardon me for interrupting,” came the voice from above them. Gaara looked up to see Orochimaru in the trees. “I’m holding dinner and a meeting very shortly, it would truly be a shame if you missed it.” 

The next thing he knew, Orochimaru had vanished. He looked to Lee, who looked equally as surprised as him. The leaf shinobi glanced at him and shrugged, “I guess we will have to suspend our training today. We should go back.”

“Right,” Gaara agreed, and together, they set off for the hideout. They weren’t training too far from it, so it didn’t take too long for them to reach it. Nobody was in sight, so Gaara led the way inside and down the hallway until they reached the kitchen hall, where Chōji’s voice gave the confirmation that everyone else was already there. 

Gaara and Lee entered side-by-side to find a long table littered with food and beverages, along with every other member of their team. There were plenty of empty seats still, surprisingly, and Gaara followed Lee to sit beside him. Lee chose the spot next to Omoi, and Gaara chose one beside him and Kankurō. 

Chōji was sandwiched between Chōjūrō and Kiba on the left side of Gaara, already finished with his first plate of food, finding another and quickly devouring the dumplings first. “Wow, Lord Orochimaru,” he said, mouth stuffed, “This food is amazing!”

Orochimaru, at the furthest end of the table, chuckled. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Chōji,” he said, and then he began speaking to everyone, “I’ve called you all here to discuss strategy. I hope that you can take a moment to listen.”

The chattering faded, and even Chōji stopped eating for a moment. The only sound was that of Suigetsu, slurping ramen shamelessly beside Orochimaru and Karin. It was rather unnerving.

Karin slapped Suigetsu on the head with such force that the former mist shinobi spit the broth in his mouth out. 

Orochimaru closed his eyes and sighed in annoyance before proceeding to speak, “So, let’s begin. I’ve been thinking about ways to go about this Saibankan, and I believe that their intentions could very well be to try and lure us to their base in Mountains’ Graveyard. We may have the numbers, but they know the area best, and we have no idea what could be waiting for us should we ambush them on their ground. Pursuing them outright would almost certainly lead to risks that could be detrimental. Who knows what tricks these ninja could have up their sleeves? Strategically, it’s possibly best to take things a step at a time and draw them out of their hideout.” 

Shikamaru, a strategist himself, spoke up, which was unsurprising to Gaara. “You’re right, but what if they all come after  _us_ _?_ ”

The snake sannin laughed, a harsh sound that normally would have seemed threatening had Gaara (or anyone else for that matter) been around him in any other context. “They wouldn’t dare step in Ota country altogether at once,” he said, “I’m quite famous for my traps, and I’m sure they and their leader are very aware of that. I believe Nagaiyo is practical enough to send everyone off in waves in an attempt to shorten our numbers, which we won’t allow to happen. We take pick them off until we can tackle the bigger threat. After all, they’re not so different than you all in terms of elemental compatibility.” 

“That’s... actually a very wise idea,” Shikamaru responded. He glanced over at Gaara, who was inevitably in agreeance and nodded at the eye contact. “I think I’m speaking on behalf of everyone when I say that you’re right.”

There were no objections, so Orochimaru stood up. “Very good. I’d really love to stay and join you all, but unfortunately I’ve no taste for food any longer. Enjoy your meals, we’ll be seeing each other again soon.” With that, he walked out of the room, the sound of his footsteps fading as everyone began eating and talking again. 

Gaara, confident in the plan at hand, turned to Lee beside him— who’d nearly wiped his entire plate of all the vegetables— rather than eating anything himself. He wanted to find something to say to him; they hadn’t spoken much (other than the occasional small talk during their earlier training session) since the incident by the river. The leaf shinobi had been on his mind a lot, he had to do something about it. 

When he finally found something to say, his voice came out awkward. “You eat as fast as you move,” he said, offering an awkward smile, “It’s, um... interesting.”

Lee looked at him and grinned. “Thank you, Gaara-kun!”

Gaara flushed, thinking about what to say next, when he felt his older brother’s hand on his shoulder to grab his attention.

Kankurō looked like he was about to laugh. “Gaara, are you fucking kidding me?  _‘You eat as fast as you move?’_ That’s got to be the weirdest fucking compliment I’ve ever heard in my life.”

The Kazekage’s face burned brighter. “‘Sometimes you just have to let it happen,’” he said defensively, embarrassed, “You’re the one who told me that.”

His older brother laughed loudly. “Right. You’re totally right, little bro,” he wiped his eye, “Don’t let me interrupt, you go carry on with whatever it is you’re trying to figure out. Just try to find better compliments next time or else I’m going to continue to laugh at you.”

Kankurō turned back around and Gaara stared down at his plate of food. He felt foolish; he could have said something way better than what he’d said, absolutely. But how could he say it without sounding awkward? 

Down the dinner table, Chōji continued his feast, clearing his second plate before turning to Chōjūrō sheepishly. “Are you gonna eat that?” he asked, gesturing to the mist shinobi’s untouched barbeque.

Chōjūrō sighed and slid his plate over to him. “No, it’s all yours.”

“Gee, thanks, Chōjūrō!”

“No problem.”

Gaara looked back up from his plate at the sound Ittan’s voice, directly across from him, “Hey, Gaara!”

“Hello, Ittan,” Gaara responded, giving him a polite smile. 

Ittan bit off a piece of his dango and returned the grin, “Y’know, I’ve been thinking,” he said, mouth still a bit full, “My goal as a kid was to protect my village, and I stood so firm in that belief that I used to think other villages would eventually be a threat to my own. But since the war, you really have changed my perspective! I mean, eating with  _Lord Orochimaru?_ Who would have thought, right? I’m glad I’ve changed my view on the world. It feels much more gratifying to want to protect all of the five nations rather than just one place! I have you to thank for that.”

Gaara found himself flattered. “Thank you, Ittan. I appreciate your kindness.”

“I’d say we have this mission in the bag,” Ittan continued, his dark eyes shining with a fiery determination, “I can’t wait to finally prove myself to everyone!”

“You’ve done more than enough to prove yourself,” Gaara said, a little confused, “Why continue to push yourself so hard?”

Ittan’s expression didn’t change. “I will always push forward to keep my village and the other four safe,” he vowed, “because that’s my ninja way. I’ll prove myself completely loyal once we defeat that woman and her band of rogues and save the lives of everyone at stake, and that’s a promise!”

The Kazekage smiled. He’d come a long way since the shinobi war, for sure. “The Tsuchikage and Naruto would be proud to hear you say that. I can’t speak for the other three, but I, for one, certainly am.”

Ittan beamed at him, almost emotionally. “I’m forever grateful, Gaara! I’ve lived a life full of conflicting situations, I’m glad i know my place!”

Lee, who had apparently also been paying attention, spoke up, “My sensei has always told me that hard work and determination will pay off in the end! I am certain that you will be satisfied when this mission is over!”

Gaara looked over at him and briefly admired the sincere expression on his face. If only the rest of the world were like him. Then again, he supposed, if they were, Lee wouldn’t stick out so much, and they wouldn’t be where they were now; he was thankful for that unique personality and the opportunity to grow close to him. 

“Thanks, Lee!” Ittan returned, and he was quickly sidetracked as Kurotsuchi passed over her untouched rice cakes to him. He began speaking to her instead, leaving Gaara and Lee once again silent in their own company.

“—and that’s when I said, ‘you’re no Kazekage if you can’t come up with a proverb!’”

Gaara heard Kankurō speaking to Kiba beside him, one hand extended to pet Akamaru’s head. Kiba was laughing. 

“He got so flustered he literally sent a wave of sand over everything, including the camera and Lord Hokage!” 

The thought of being blasted with sand must have been funny to Kiba, because he cackled loudly and began wiping tears from his eyes. Gaara was fairly astonished at how they were getting along, even Akamaru seemed to be enjoying the company of Kankurō. It was heartwarming, even if it was a joke at the expense of him. 

Down the table to his right, Shikamaru, Omoi, and Karui seemed to be having a pleasant conversation, too. Gaara decided to tune in.

“Y’know, my friend Chōji,” he heard Shikamaru say to Karui, slyly pointing to the leaf shinobi, who was unsurprisingly still consuming food, “is probably the best companion anyone could have. He’s a great friend, and probably a pretty great partner too, if you think about it.” 

Karui’s yellow eyes followed Shikamaru’s fingers and let out a light laugh, “Well, he certainly is unique. I like people with original personalities.”

Shikamaru smirked, “Oh, he’s as original as it gets. You won’t meet else anyone like him.”

Omoi winked at Shikamaru, grinning, before adding, “And he has that partial expansion jutsu, too, I’ve heard. Which means he can expand his—“

Karui quickly flushed and slammed Omoi’s head onto his plate of food, yelling and cursing at him, and Gaara decided it was probably best to tune out of that one. 

He instead focused his attention back on Lee, who was taking in the scene with a rather emotional expression on his face. “How youthful!” he exclaimed, “Everyone is getting along so well it is almost like they have known each other for a long time!”

Gaara marveled at how passionate Lee was— how his warm personality reflected onto him— before smiling wholeheartedly. “Friendship  _is_ the key to a perfect team.”

—

It was late at night and the Kazekage found himself unable to sleep. He’d spent the last hour or two tossing around, and it wasn’t that the bed was uncomfortable, he just felt empty in a way he couldn’t understand. 

After a quick conclusion that his sudden insomnia came from being alone for the first time in a while, Gaara made the split-secondand subconscious decision to grab his pillow and blanket and quietly leave his quarters. He kept thinking about what Kankuro said, in fact, he thought about it all the way until he ended up at Lee’s room. 

He creaked the door open slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, only to find the leaf shinobi wide awake and sitting upright in his bed. Gaara froze and met his gaze, now terrified. Lee probably thought he was losing his mind.

“Gaara-kun?” Lee whispered, shocked, “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Gaara admitted quietly, almost unable to get the words out, “I... guessed it was because I’ve been used to sleeping in groups. I was wondering if I could sleep in the room with you?”

He was expecting a row of questions,  _‘Why not Kankuro or Shikamaru?’_ or  _‘How did you know I was awake?’_ What he got instead was not at all what he expected. Lee smiled at him warmly, his round eyes glittering, “Of course,” he said, “After all, you do not want to be too fatigued for training tomorrow morning! Come in!”

Gaara breathed a sigh of relief and entered the room, which was lit by a single candle, and closed the door behind him. He lifted his hand and used his sand to create a bed next to Lee’s before placing his pillow onto it, laying down, and pulling his blanket over him, trying to ignore the sensation of Lee’s eyes on him.

As much as he appreciated his sand, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. Lee seemed to notice it, because after a short and awkward silence, he whispered, “Hey, Gaara-kun. That sand bed of yours is certainly magnificent, but it does not seem too comfortable. There is plenty of room up here if you would like to sleep in the bed with me.”

Gaara’s whole body flushed. He felt very nervous— even moreso when he realised that he  _wanted_ to. It took him a moment, but he eventually went with his gut. “Thank you,” he whispered, and stood back up, letting his sand pool onto the floor below him. He grabbed his pillow and blanket again, shook them off, and awkwardly climbed into the bed beside Lee.

The leaf shinobi slipped down under the blankets and yawned, “You are more than welcome, Gaara-kun.”

Gaara racked his brain for a response, but by the time he had found one, the other man was snoring. He layed awake and tried to make sense of how this, somehow, was exactly what he’d been craving. It was like his body was moving for him when he walked to the room and laid down beside Lee. Was this what Kankurō was talking about? Whatever the case, it felt right, and he decided it was okay to feel the way that he did.

Lee suddenly turned over and wrapped his arms around Gaara, still asleep, and while initially shocked and flustered, Gaara settled back into the touch— into that warmth he admired so much— and closed his eyes. 

It was the fastest Gaara had ever fallen asleep in his entire life. 


	11. Chapter 11

Gaara opened his eyes and immediately noticed that, not only had he not dream during the night, but he was in a position he had never before woken up to. His entire back was warm, and an extra limb seemed to have grown out of his side. No, he realised, that was someone else’s limb. More specifically, it was Rock Lee’s arm, which was equally as warm as his back. And it was Lee’s torso against him, breathing in a rhythm just slightly off of his own.

He froze. This was arguably the closest he had ever been to the leaf ninja, and he didn’t quite understand it, but the thought of that fact alone made his stomach drop. How long had they been situated like this? Was this a normal thing for friends to experience when sleeping in the same bed? Did friends even sleep in the same bed at all? The more he thought about it, the more nervous he became. He felt his breath leave his body in a ragged manner; he felt safe here. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to move.

“Gaara-kun,” he heard the whisper from behind him, “Are you awake?”

So Lee was awake. But why hadn’t he moved yet? Perhaps he simply didn’t want to wake him. Gaara shook the thoughts that were racing around his head away and breathed, “Yes.”

The pressure against his back lifted, and the arm wrapped around his side slid back. He felt Lee sit up, still relatively close but not in the way he was. “I know that you are probably exhausted, but I have been awake for some time now,” Lee said, voice still hushed, but a bit above a whisper, “I have been thinking. If we found a way to combine an attack, it would prove to be very beneficial against the enemy. We can train in taijutsu later.”

Gaara groggily sat up beside him and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “I’ve no reason to say no,” he responded. “What kind of attack?”

“I am so glad you asked,” Lee said. He was already beaming, and Gaara took a single second to look at his reflection in the man’s glittering eyes before focusing on his mouth. “I was wondering what you would be comfortable with.”

“Comfortable,” Gaara echoed. He had just woken up to Lee’s arm around him; what sort of situation would he not be comfortable with? “Anything. I trust you.”

Lee smiled at him, “That is wonderful! You can use your sand and the power of my—“

The door to the room flung open and Lee and Gaara visibly jumped, startled.

Shikamaru was there, panting, very clearly jumbled. “Lord Orochimaru has detected outside intelligence close to the base. We need to move.”

Lee immediately got up with a full burst of energy and ran out the door, leaving Gaara confused and hasty. Why didn’t he wait for him? How was he so comfortable in switching tasks? Gaara didn’t bother wondering anymore, nor did he trouble himself with changing, he just ran behind the leaf ninja, hoping Shikamaru didn’t question them later.

It wasn’t until he was a very good distance from the hideout that he realised he had forgotten his gourd.

When he finally caught up to everyone else, they had come to a halt in the middle of the clearing. Gaara pushed himself through too get a good look at the two shinobi in front of them. There was a woman with inky black hair and dark blue eyes, clad in a colour that matched, and a brown-haired man donning glasses and mud-coloured gear.

The man spoke first. “Well we certainly didn’t intend for the entire lot of you to show up,” he scoffed, his voice laced with malice, “We’re just here for that taijutsu user of yours. He clashed with one of our dearest friends a bit ago, and we desire to, ahem, kindly ask him some _questions_. We tend to be very confrontational people when something happens to someone we care deeply about, I’m sure you can understand.”

Gaara hesitantly looked over at Lee, who was defiantly standing his ground. “I am afraid I will not be answering any of your questions! We can settle this now with combat if you would truly like a confrontation!”

“Lee,” the Kazekage found himself saying, without thinking, and he quickly shut himself up. If he didn’t look suspicious before, he definitely did now. What was worse was that he didn’t have his gourd with him; he silently pleaded that nobody noticed.

“Ha! I knew it,” the woman exclaimed, “What did I tell you, Natsuo? They’re working together!”

“Kōzui, please be patient,” the man, Natsuo, affirmed quietly. He shot her a glare before continuing, now directly addressing Gaara, “Lord Kazekage, what a pleasure to be speaking to you. Maybe you can answer some questions for us.”

It was Kiba who spoke up first. “Sorry, but we’re not inclined to trust two people who were probably on their way to throttle us in our sleep. If anything, we should be the ones asking _you_ questions.”

Natsuo pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and chuckled, “Talking is clearly not your strong suit,” he said, and his voice became very condescending, “Kiba Inuzuka. No wonder you never became Hokage.”

The expression on Kiba’s face twisted. Akamaru growled from beside him as he seethed, “Why, you—“

Kankuro’s arm stretched out in front of where Kiba had stepped forward. “Kiba, don’t. That’s exactly what that bastard wants you to do. Don’t stoop to his level, alright? He doesn’t know anything about you.”

Kiba’s eyes softened and he huffed, “Fine,” as the sand ninja moved his arm.

The woman, Kōzui, rolled her eyes and turned to her partner. “Let’s just get it over with, already, Natsuo! They aren’t going to just surrender at our feet!”

“You’re so annoying,” Natsuo sighed, “You just made this ten times harder than it needed to be. But suit yourself.” He then turned directly to face Gaara, his hands forming the snake seal before slamming them onto the ground, “Earth Style: Earth Prison Dome!”

“Gaara-kun!”

Before the Kazekage could react, the earth around him surged upward, and he soon found himself trapped in a giant dome of mud, rock, and darkness. He rushed forward and yelled, hitting the wall with every inch of power he could muster, hoping that he could be heard from this new prison of his, “Lee! Kankuro!”

“Hang on, Gaara!” he heard his brother exclaim, “We’ll get you out of there!”

—

There was utter chaos as soon as Gaara became entrapped. Kōzui was immediately targeted by several kunai thrown by Ittan and Karui. She quickly turned and fled, tossing, “Sorry Natsuo,” over her shoulder before being trailed by her attackers.

In anger, Natsuo cursed and began forming more seals, now directed toward the rest of the group, “Earth Style: Flying Thrown Stones!”

Shikamaru jumped back, bits of rocks and dirt flying past him. He eyed Natsuo carefully. He calculated each and every step the earth style user took, making sure his actions went unnoticed. He would let him attempt to fight fair until he he was completely distracted, then draw closer so that he would be able to perform a shadow imitation technique long enough for someone to sneak behind him and finish him off.

Kurotsuchi jumped up in response to the attack, “Lava Style: Quicklime Congealing Technique!” She quickly closed her mouth as if chewing on something before spitting out a corrosive liquid from her mouth directly down towards Natsuo. He was struck in the legs as he moved out of the way, falling flat onto his stomach as if he had been tripped.

He was surprisingly quick to recover, but not quick enough. He stood up, scowling, and right has he began forming seals, Shikamaru closed in and let their shadows connect.

Natsuo was frozen. “What-?! I- I can’t move!”

Shikamaru motioned with his eyes to Chōjūrō, who immediately understood and ducked out of Natsuo’s peripheral vision. “Shadow Imitation,” the leaf ninja deadpanned, “And you’re not going anywhere until you tell us why you decided to go after Lee and Gaara.”

“I told you already,” Natsuo breathed, “we were avenging our friend! Let me go and I’ll leave you alone, I promise! I’ll even help you go after Kōzui! It was her idea!”

Shikamaru nearly laughed. “You’re so quick to sell out your own teammate. Pathetic. Answer the question.”

The earth style shinobi strained against his paralysis but failed. He looked at Shikamaru with brown eyes full of hatred. “I already answered it, you idiot!”

“Wrong answer. Chōjūrō?” Chōjūrō appeared from behind Natsuo, gripping his sword in his hand, ready for Shikamaru to give the order. The leaf ninja looked back to his opponent, “Would you like to change your answer?”

Natsuo suddenly smiled. “No, absolutely not.”

Chōjūrō hesitantly raised his sword and brought it down upon Natsuo, and the birds in the trees above them all flew away in unison.

—

Ittan felt excitement flow through his body as he and Karui of the Cloud finally caught up to Kōzui, who was now backed up against a cliff in a field outside of the woods they had just escaped from.

She scowled, seemingly aware of the fact that she was outnumbered. “Looks like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh?” she stated, rolling her eyes “Fine. I surrender. Take me back to your base and question me if you want. I’m an open book.”

Ittan looked at Karui, who seemed just as shocked as he was. Was it really that easy? “Is this some sort of trap?”

Kōzui sighed, “No. I didn’t ask for this. I was just following orders. Nagaiyo will kill me if I fail and somehow make it back to her. If you don’t believe me, you can drag me back.”

The stone shinobi took a moment to think about what Gaara would want if he had been in this place instead. Surely there would be some element of forgiveness. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” he said finally, “Karui?”

“I guess,” she responded, shrugging, “Lead the way, then, Ittan.”

Right as they began walking, their backs turned, Kōzui started laughing. “I’m shocked! You should have chosen to drag me. Are you idiots really that easy to fool? Unbelievable. Water Style: Great Cannonball Jutsu!”

Before Ittan could even turn around, he and Karui were blast forward, swept off their feet by a strong gust of cold water. He managed to grab onto a tree to save himself from the surge, and climbed onto a branch before scanning the area for Karui. How could he be so stupid? He was ashamed of himself. A single mistake almost cost both his and Karui’s lives. He was unbelievably angry; what would Shikamaru have done if he had found out? 

“Ittan! She’s getting away!”

Karui was sat in a tree just beside him, her red hair dripping with water. Sure enough, the black-haired kunoichi was already sprinting away, far enough that there wasn’t anything Ittan could do from his position. Without another beat, he sprung from where he was sat into a full run, as fast as he possibly could, already forming his seals as he drew closer. “Earth Style: Earth Flow Wave!” He exclaimed, and he felt the ground beneath him shift, lifting him up into the air. He branched off to draw himself closer, riding a wave of dirt and mud until the distance was close enough for him to try another attack.

Kōzui halted and quickly turned around to scream, “Water Style: Liquid Bullet,” opening her mouth to spew a cannon of water directly at her target.

Ittan sank into his own wave to avoid the second blast. He quickly began forming seals immediately before she did, “Earth Style,” and he slammed his hand onto the ground, “Moving Earth Core!”

The earth beneath their feet trembled as if it were going to split, and Kōzui began sinking into a hole, the water jutsu she had just formed sinking into the hole with her. Ittan already knew she would be able to escape eventually, and as Karui arrived to the scene, he had already devised a plan.

“Karui, I need your assistance.”

“I know,” she replied. Without any words, her right hand lit up with lightning, yellow and glowing. She grabbed a kunai with her left hand, and transferred the current into the weapon before gazing down into the hole where Kōzui floated in the water. “Is there anything else you would like to say?

Kōzui spat into the water around her. “Bite me.”

Karui tossed the weapon into the water and began walking back toward the trees. Ittan watched as the water sizzled, electrocuting their opponent, who didn’t even scream in defeat. Once he was absolutely certain the kunoichi was dead, he sighed, turned around, and followed in the Cloud kunoichi’s steps.

—

“There’s a very weak section of the dome, towards the back! Use every bit of chakra you can and hit it!”

Gaara was weak. Despite Shikamaru’s instructions, he didn’t feel like he had enough chakra left to break the barrier. “I can’t,” he gasped out, his voice cracking, “I’m not strong enough. I don’t even have my gourd with me.”

“You are! You have to try!” his brother-in-law yelled, “It’s weaker than you think it is, I promise! I’ve been in one of those before, you have to trust me!”

The voice that spoke next shattered something in Gaara, and he wasn’t exactly sure what. “Gaara-kun,” Lee said softly, almost as though there weren’t a wall between them, “Remember what I have taught you. Focus your chakra into your fist. I believe in you!”

_Focus your chakra into your fist._ Gaara stood up shakily and made his way to the back of the dome. He thought of how it would feel to accomplish this without sand— how the hard work Lee had been teaching him would have paid off in some way. What he wouldn’t give to see light again, to see his brother and Shikamaru’s reaction to the strength he could muster. And Lee, Gaara’s stomach fluttered at the thought of the leaf shinobi’s bright smile when he broke free. He wanted to see his friends again, all of them, even Naruto at the end of all of this.

The Kazekage balled his fist up and felt himself fueled by the thought of living, of going to back to base and eating dinner with his team. It seemed as though he had never wanted anything more in his life. A sudden energy filled him, perhaps it was the rest of his chakra, and he yelled out as he ran forward, fist extended, smashing it and the rest of his body into the wall. He heard shattering from all around him, and then.

Light.

“Gaara-kun!”

Gaara, now completely weakened and unable to move, felt his body enveloped in warmth as Lee dropped down to the ground and pulled him in. Although in pain, he felt safe. Happy. “Lee,” he breathed out, “I-...”

“Do not worry one bit!” Lee told him, “I am going to carry you back. You are going to be okay!”

And Gaara, who now finally understood exactly why he felt so serene as he looked up into his eyes, believed it.


	12. Chapter 12

“You did very well today, Gaara. I am so proud of you.”

Gaara felt his Karura’s arms wrap around him, a blanket of security, the coarse golden ocean around them bathing them both in warmth. His mother had been in a few dreams over the years, whenever he seemed to need her the most. She was always with him, through every moment, and though he knew it to be true, he felt most at ease when she was there to hold him.

“Thank you, Kaa-chan,” Gaara murmured. The sound of her breathing seemed to lull him into a trance; he could sink forever here, if only he hadn’t a need to achieve greater things. He had depleted almost all of his chakra today, during a fight he couldn’t even take part in— shrouded in darkness, stuck in a space too tight for him to breathe properly. He was never one to enjoy feeling stuck in any manner; the feeling of his mother embracing him was absolutely in effort of healing him. He had a mission he needed to finish, feelings and landscapes he needed to still explore.

Karura’s breath danced across the red hairs on his head. “My love, something has been heavily weighing on you. What is it that you would like to understand?”

At first, Gaara didn’t quite understand what she meant. Surely she knew about his lack of strength already, as well as the execrable dome he had been ensnared in that pulled his chakra out of him. After pondering for a moment about what else she could have meant, he finally realised. “I’m uncertain of how to explain it. I long to be precious to someone— someone who is also precious to me.”

His mother’s breath halted for a moment before she effortlessly spoke again, her tone understanding and exact, “You have wonderful friends, Gaara. I’m positive you are precious to them all.”

“There is... someone,” the Kazekage said. He was almost afraid of the words that were leaving his mouth. He didn’t want to have to overthink it. “Someone I long to be precious to, more than I do for anyone else. I don’t understand it. I need help.”

There was no hesitance in Karura’s voice, it was as though all of her words were carefully chosen on the spot, a river with no regrets. “I am here to help you, dearest. Would you like to tell me more?” Not once did she let go. She simply began stroking her son’s hair, her fingers soft as silk as they ran through.

“A shinobi from the Hidden Leaf,” Gaara explained, and he was scared to admit it to even himself. “I don’t understand why I feel so strongly. My judgement has been lapsed.”

There was a slight pause in everything. His mother stopped moving, even breathing, for a heartbeat before she decided on what to say. “A shinobi,” she echoed quietly, “A man?” Her tone was calculating but nonjudgmental, something that Gaara found absolute solace in. “May I ask who it is?”

A flash of an image— shiny black hair, large, dark eyes, rippling muscles, utter positivity seeping through a soft-lipped, sincere smile. Yes, that was precisely it. How Gaara longed to be precious to him, to be wrapped in his arms in a way he had never experienced before. Perhaps to share a bed with him again, to wake up in the same position he had woken up in this morning, only he wasn’t sure he wanted it to end. To feel his hands on him in a gentle caress— those hands that handled him so delicately. There was nothing he desired more. “He is called Rock Lee,” he said, and it was as if something clicked within him, “I’ve never felt like this before, Kaa-chan. I don’t comprehend this.”

“It is not something you will able to comprehend right now, sweet Gaara,” Karura hummed, “but I promise you will understand eventually. Be cautious and let everything happen as it does.” She suddenly stopped stroking her son’s feathery hair and gently stepped away, “I’m sorry I cannot be with you in person. You have to wake up now, I’m afraid. Your teammates are waiting for you.” Gaara felt her lips press against his head in farewell, “Be safe, my son. I will see you again soon.”

—

When Gaara opened his eyes, he was rather surprised by his location. He was situated in a hospital room of sorts, the only person present in the room at the moment. The walls were a mixture of a deep purple and slate grey colour, only lit by a few torches that highlighted different test areas and medical supplies. He had no doubt this was a place where Lord Orochimaru had formerly performed experiments, now turned into a twist of a hospital wing with empty beds and IV poles donning empty fluid bags.

Gaara initially found himself dismayed at the fact that he was alone, but realised if anyone (especially Lee) were around him while he rose with the discovery of the emotions in his mind and heart, they would detect them before he could properly know how to handle them. The first person he wanted to address on the manner was Kankurō, for certain; all of the sand siblings had dream visitations of their mother often. He would, without question, be very understanding. Shikamaru would follow in order, as he was intelligent enough to not only help Gaara comprehend his revelation, but to give advice and knowledge on the matter; perhaps he felt a similar was about Temari. He would have to continue his conversation with his mother to better get an idea of who to speak to on the subject.

The door on the far side of the room parallel to Gaara opened, and sure enough, Kankurō himself entered, alone. “You’re awake!” he exclaimed, making his way over to his little brother, a bright smile on his painted face, “It’s about time. I thought you might miss dinner again. You’ve been out for a long time.”

_A long time?_ “How long was I asleep?” Gaara asked, and his voice was hoarse as it left his throat.

“Oh, only a solid 28 hours,” Kankurō replied. He pulled a chair from a table beside the bed where Gaara was sitting and looked at him with concern. “You feeling okay?”

Should he say something now? Should he wait? Gaara stared at the edge of his bed to avoid eye contact with his older brother. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he how he was feeling was normal, but if there were any a time to mention it, it would probably be now, when nobody else was around to hear them. “Actually, Kankurō, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The sand shinobi raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? What’s up?”

Gaara found that his fingers were twiddling anxiously; he ducked his head to the side and looked away. “It’s about Lee,” he breathed out, a bit shaky, “I... have these feelings that I don’t understand...”

“I see,” Kankurō responded. His tone was neutral, and Gaara didn’t dare look at him. “I don’t think you knew what I meant when I told you to let everything come naturally to you. What you’re feeling, whether you want to believe it or not, is normal. Just don’t pushyourself too hard. Part of what makes it so beautiful is that you can’t explain what you feel in words. I’m always gonna be here with you, Gaara. You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Gaara finally turned and looked at Kankurō, whose brown eyes were sympathetic. He smiled at his older sibling earnestly. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

A creaking sound from the far end of the room let the Kazekage and his brother know that someone was entering. He faced forward to see none other than Lee himself, one arm behind his back as he idly walked over to the bed.

Kankurō looked from him to Gaara and back again before nodding once toward his brother, a faint smile on his lips. “I’m gonna go antagonise Kiba or something. I’ll see you at dinner.”

As he stood and sauntered out of the room, Lee took his place in the seat, arm still behind his back. “I had no idea you were awake already!” he exclaimed, eyes closing as he grinned, “I am happy to see you are doing well!” he then slowly moved his arm from around his back to reveal the small group of potted flowers— amaryllis, Gaara recognised— and a faint pink painted his cheeks. “I was not anticipating you coming to this early, so I had brought you some flowers in hopes that you would make a speedy recovery!”

Gaara’s heart danced in his chest, the butterflies in his stomach moving to the rhythm as if his entire body were playing music. He felt his face heat up as he grabbed the pot from Lee, admiring the bright red petals on each flower individually before meeting the leaf-nin’s eyes. “Lee, I-... thank you. I wish I could better express my gratitude. These are lovely.”

“You are very welcome, Gaara-kun!” Lee replied, “They reminded me of you when I saw them! They are almost as red as your hair!”

How desperately Gaara wanted to express how he felt to him— to just let it all go and be as close to him as it were possible to be. But he couldn’t do it. Not now, not so early in their closeness, especially when he was uncertain if Lee desired to be precious to him in the same way. It was still too soon, the emotions were too fresh. He quickly looked away from Lee; what if he was just being himself? What if Lee didn’t have any sort of similar feeling towards him whatsoever? After all, he had shown on multiple occasions how he acts when desiring someone in the way he behaved around Sakura. Gaara was nothing like her in more than just the obvious ways, and as far as he was concerned, Lee still felt that way about her.

“I am very proud of you, also!” the leaf shinobi continued, much to the nervousness of Gaara, “You have come a long way since our training already! Your training is coming along very well, and if you do not mind me saying, I think that you have shown incredible strength beyond what I had been expecting! You are very marvelous indeed, Gaara-kun!”

_Marvelous. Proud of me._ Gaara wanted to vanish into thin air— to simply cease being visible. His cheeks tingled. “Lee. I appreciate the praise, but I—... I...”

The poor Kazekage almost jumped out of his skin as he felt Lee’s hand place itself over his own. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run away. He wanted to fall apart. To make matters worse, Lee didn’t speak, just rested his fingers and palm on top of Gaara’s. They must have stayed like that for hours, or at least it felt that way, with Gaara losing feeling in his face entirely, never once looking back at Lee’s face.

A loud knocking at the door made them jump apart, and Ittan entered, looking extremely enthusiastic. Gaara was relieved to see his face. “Dinner is ready! Lord Orochimaru is expecting both of you to join. I’m glad to see you doing well, Gaara.”

This time, it was Gaara who got up and left without waiting for Lee to catch up. He flashed Ittan a forced smile. “Thank you, Ittan,” he nodded, and made his way down the hall, planning to sit as far away from Lee as possible.


	13. Chapter 13

In the dark of a cave, two candle flames flickered, and then sizzled out of existence. There were now seven candle wicks still ablaze, each one sat in front of a single person. Where there were dead candles, there were empty seats, an almost cold feeling in the abandoned areas.

Nagaiyo, the _Shiro Akuma_ , or white demon,as she was often referred to, flushed dark lashes against pale skin as she closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. “Kōzui and Natsuo have been defeated,” she began, and her voice was very calm. “Dead. I cannot believe it.” She glanced across the faces gathered at her stone table, each of them bearing looks of shock and disappointment. “I sent them with the utmost respect and hope that they would succeed and they’re dead.” Abruptly, she stood from her seat and angrily knocked a bowl in front of her off of the table, the sound of the glass breaking echoing against the cave walls. A few of the teammates winced. “I give them my trust and they betray me by falling over like trees! Insolent!” By now her voice had been raised with rage, and she slammed her fist down onto the table, her white hair flying in the wind she had created. “Absolutely abhorrent! This is not the organisation I had formed years ago!” She began to pace around the seats, and the atmosphere grew very tense as she strode, each step affirming her authority. “Perhaps,” she said, “you have all grown soft on me. Do I need to make an example out of you?” When nobody responded to her question, she knocked a bowl away from Kaito Minami, the quiet, former mist shinobi. “ _Answer me_ , you pitiful fools!”

“No, my lady,” came the voices of several.

“Then why,” Nagaiyo seethed, her steps now even more languid and demeaning, “Haven’t any of you volunteered to complete the simple task I assigned to those _baka-domo?_ ”

The first person to speak was Harikēn, the brown-haired and green-eyed former stone shinobi. He had always been the one to understand. “My lady, if I may.”

“You are not going anywhere,” Nagaiyo told him firmly, and she meant it; she didn’t care what weakness she showed. There would always be a soft spot in her for Harikēn; he had been there since the very beginning, before anyone else. “Not without me. And I don’t intend on leaving anytime soon.” Harikēn did not respond, he merely gave her a small, private smile. It would always trip her inside― just as it had happened since their youth. “I need other volunteers and I don’t care who does it! I’m tired of these foolish group of brainwashed ninja getting in my way! Is Harikēn the only one still loyal to me?”

” _Nagaiyo,_ ” Harikēn said softly, “Breathe. Won’t you them a chance to answer?”

He would always be the only person to address her in such a manner. She reached down into her pocket and clasped an object, her anger subtly cooling. “I will ask again,” she breathed, “Is there anyone who would like to complete this simple mission on behalf of the Saibankan?”

―

**Nagaiyo, Age 14**

“They don’t know one thing about me, Fuku. I’m not useless. One day, I’m gonna be the strongest kunoichi anyone’s ever seen. Then they’re gonna regret ever doubting me.”

The small, spotted cat beside Nagaiyo on the riverbed purred in response, and the white-haired girl tossed another stone into the water, the sound of the water lapping bringing her a bit of inner peace. How dare they tease her so often? It wasn’t fair. _Not capable of ninjutsu, huh? I’ll show them._

Nagaiyo was absolutely fed up of the nonsense. She had run away from th all two nights before, alone, with her faithful cat Fuku, some supplies, and her belongings― nothing more. She wouldn’t dare go back, not for anything in the world. It wasn’t like she had any parents to go home to, anyway. Damn Osoi-Sensei for belittling her so harshly. She was so isolated from the rest of her team that it was utterly ridiculous. All of the training she had done over the years seemed like nothing in comparison to the rest of them.

_“You can’t even make a clone! You’re pathetic! Try harder!”_

_“If only you were like my son, Musai here. He’s going to be the best shinobi there is!”_

_“Why can’t you perform any jutsu, Nagaiyo? Doesn’t that make you a good-for-nothing kunoichi?”_

_“You might as well just give up!”_

It just wasn’t fair. Nagaiyo felt her eyes sting, the tears welling up before she could stop them as she remembered everything her sensei, teammates, and fellow villagers ever told her. She began to cry, and god, she hated it when she cried, for it showed too much weakness. She hated looking small and incompetent. “Don’t look at me, Fuku,” she sobbed, “I’m not crying, I swear!”

“Are you okay?”

Nagaiyo froze. For a moment she had thought that Fuku was speaking to her, but no. That wasn’t possible, after all. She whipped her head around to see a boy about her age: a lean, brunette boy with messy hair and sharp green eyes. He wasn’t wearing a headband either. Was he from her village? Did he come to bring her back? Or was he from another village? “Who are you?” she asked, “And what do you want?”

“Sheesh,” the boy said, “All I did was ask a question.” He sat down beside her and reached out, handing her a small mud golem figure. “Here,” he said, “you look like you need it. It’s my lucky golem. I’ve had it with me since I left my village when I was 12. I’m Harikēn, by the way.”

_Harikēn,_ Nagaiyo thought, _Hurricane._ Somehow, this was the nicest gesture she had ever received. “Thank you,” she responded, and she wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve, “I’m Nagaiyo. I just left my village, too. Why did you leave yours?”

“Everyone was scared of me,” he explained. “I hurt my family. But I didn’t mean to. I’ve been trying two elemental jutsu and it got out of hand. My parents don’t even want to look at me. Why did you leave?”

It took a good bit of strength to admit something to another person, Nagaiyo realised. She had never experienced having a friend before. “I can’t do any ninjutsu,” she muttered. “Everyone made fun of me for it. So I just left.”

The boy picked up a stone and tossed it as far as he could into the river. “I see. I understand. We should stick together,” he suggested, “I know what it’s like to feel alone. We don’t have to be anymore.”

Nagaiyo brushed a strand of white hair out of her eyes and glanced over to him before nodding with agreement, “Okay.” Maybe he was right, maybe she didn’t have to be alone.

Harikēn met her eyes and gave her a warm smile― one that made her feel less isolated and more accepted than she had ever felt before.

―

Nagaiyo gripped the golem in her pocket for a moment longer and let go, now much calmer than before. There would be a positive that came out of losing two of her teammates, for certain. There just had to be.

“My lady,” came a slippery voice, treacherous and conniving, and Nagaiyo snapped out of her trance to place her eyes upon Shizuka, the grey-haired lightning-style user. “I have no problem offering my services, but that would require taking out the enemy. However, I’m sure you already know that.”

She gave it a bit of thought. They were obviously down three members already, frankly quicker than she had planned. It wouldn’t hurt to cut them down a few. Or rather, it would hurt, in terms of _them._ She smiled, a sinister twisted turn of her red lips. “Shizuka, how kind of you. I will graciously accept your request.” But she couldn’t send him alone, not when there was foul play all around. She quickly turned back to look amongst her subordinates, red eyes observant and picky, and then back to Shizuka when she had made a decision, “Take Kaito with you. You’ll do much more damage to them with the two of you. I expect nothing but total devastation, Shizuka. Do your worst.”

His yellow eyes flashed with an evil sense of opportunity. “Trust in me, my lady. Devastation doesn’t even begin to cover it.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Shizuka Ikazuchi, Age 10**

“I don’t know _why_ , mother! It just happens!”

The young grey-haired boy looked to the wooden floor with guilty yellow eyes, feeling a wave of sadness crash over him.This was the third time this month he had lost control; he truly, honestly didn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself or why he did the things he had done. It was as if someone had possessed him in a way— someone extremely angry— and used his hands to do it. Everyone in the Village hidden in the Stone whispered about him since he had first started to have outbursts two years ago; they didn’t start off as bad, but even he knew they would lead to no good eventually, and now here he was, holding a dead squirrel by it’s tail, repulsed by the sight of it.

His mother, a dainty middle aged woman with hair as silver as his own, stared holes into the top of his head. “That is no excuse, Shizuka! You are behaving like an animal. You need to learn how to control yourself before someone gets seriously hurt.”

Shizuka looked up at her, now quite sad, “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “I really don’t know _how_ to stop myself. I want help.”

Ever since his father had died, his mother had become cold and unforgiving. That did not change as she peered down at her son with disgust. “Then help yourself and stop taking your emotions on living things!” she demanded, “I don’t know what’s happened to you. You’ve always been a happy child. You’ve always gotten what you wanted, ever since the day you were born; you have no reason to act like this. This goes beyond just growing older and dealing with hormones. When you’re not angry and injuring yourself and innocent animals, you’re either emotionless or upset! You make me feel like I’ve failed as a mother to you!”

She had never struck him before, but it felt as though she had just smacked him across the face with her words. Why couldn’t she understand him? “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “You didn’t fail me, mother. I don’t _know_ why I act like this. I just want to be normal. I want to be a good son.” He felt tears build up, and his throat stung at the sensation of him beginning to cry. “I don’t want to hurt anything anymore, I want it to stop! Please make it stop!”

His mother sighed and bent down to wrap her son in her arms, rubbing his head with her hand in sympathy. “I know, my love. We will find a way to help you.”

—

**Shizuka Ikazuchi, Age 15**

“You’re upset, Shizuka,” Kiroshi Kazama, a shaggy, black-haired, blue-eyed classmate of Shizuka’s told him with a tinge of apprehension, “He’s not worth your time, please just leave it alone.”

Shizuka looked down at the boy he was holding by the shirt— some redhead bully, at least a year his and Kiroshi’s senior, peered up at him with fear in his eyes. It wasn’t the yellow-eyed boy he had been teasing, but when it came down to his only friend, the youngest boy of the Kazama clan, he would defend him against the world. He was the only one who wouldn’t give up on him for his evolving angry and depressive problems.

“No,” he responded, “He’s been singling you out for too long now. I want it to stop.”

Kiroshi’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “It’s okay, ‘Zuka-kun,” he assured him, “Really, it’s okay. I don’t want you to get too angry.”

The boy on the ground emitted a small chuckle, “You two are acting like a married couple. As if a _nyūhāfu_ like Shizuka could actually finish what he started.”

Shizuka felt anger boil in his stomach. He was always called this at the idea of his and Kiroshi’s close friendship. He wasn’t even aware having a bond with another boy was such a bad thing in the first place. Why did it even matter? They were all each other had since Shizuka’s mother died a year prior due to illness. Kiroshi had been an orphan since birth, had no friends, and sat beside him at lunch— even offered him a bite of his ramen. They were inseparable since, and Shizuka liked to think the other boy was a key to his sanity, the only happiness he now knew.

Kiroshi scoffed. “You’re just jealous you don’t have any friends,” he said, “That’s why you bully people so much.”

“No,” the redheaded boy sneered, “I only bully you, you two are the only _kuia_ I know. If anything, you’re just mad because I’m a _nonke_.”

All of these labels. _Insane, Kuia, Depressed, Baipōra._ Why did it matter? Why did it matter at all? Why did anything matter? He always had to carry his baggage everywhere he went, and what was worse was that Kiroshi had to deal with the repercussions too, as a result. It wasn’t _fair_. For a moment, all Shizuka could focus on was how unnerving this boy was, how each sly little word left his lips with intent to deteriorate. He felt himself begin to tremble, the boiling acid of rage in his stomach increasing in temperature, the fumes rising up and into his lungs; the way he looked at Kiroshi made Shizuka almost nauseated. He had never seen another person with so much hatred for another for the sole reason of apparent differences. It was infuriating.

“Shut up,” he growled, “Shut up and leave him alone.”

“Shizuka—“

“You’re so pathetic,” the boy laughed. He tugged hard enough to force himself out of the grip he was being held in, his shirt tearing in Shizuka’s hands. He stood up, now much taller than either of the two in front of him. “You think you’re so intimidating, Ikazuchi. It’s pitiful. You’re nothing more than a bunch of orphaned losers!”

“Shut up!” Shizuka screamed. He felt his heart begin pounding, the corners if his vision darkening, and the saliva pooling in the bottom of his mouth. “I’m warning you, _shut the hell up!”_

The redheaded boy was laughing genuinely; he actually, truly enjoyed this. He actually found this funny. _“‘I’m warning you,’”_ he mocked, “See, this is why I pick on you two! You’re hilarious! Nobody takes either of you seriously, especially you, Shizuka. Always the freak! It’s laughable!”

Ringing in both ears, Shizuka’s vision became more clouded. His cheeks flushed, his hands began to sweat, every vein seemed to be popping out in his body. He felt the harsh sizzle of lightning climb up through his chakras. A familiar black flash left him, without any sense of control whatsoever, and he slid back several metres to avoid the flash. He had never used a sign for this jutsu in his life, and it was only ever this one— the same one that frightened his mother and his classmates alike. The panther, painfully bright to look at, lunged forward with the speed of sound and dove into him, and the electricity was so bright and loud that Shizuka had to close his eyes and cover his ears.

When he was certain it was over and he was stable again, his heart rate and mind now clear, he opened his eyes. He expected to be greeted with gratitude, maybe even a tight hug of affirmation. What he found instead left him hollow. He had killed the boy, as he had killed several animals in the past, but the effects seemed to burst futher than he anticipated; Kiroshi laid beside him on his stomach, eyes staring blankly into the sky. He was charred, not quite as horribly as his bully, but enough that he was immobile. Fresh, dark blood seeped from his mouth, which was agape only slightly. Shizuka’s heart shattered into more pieces than he knew were possible.

“Kiroshi!” he yelled, and he ran over to his friend, lifting him into his lap. He gently shook him, hoping with everything in him that it was just shock, but it was of no use. He was dead, the impact ofthe electricity had killed him instantly. There was nothing that could be done. He cried, feeling the sinking loneliness already taking over him. Why did he do that? Why couldn’t he have listened? He was helpless. He was a monster. His body racked with sobs. _“Kiroshi!”_

—

**Shizuka Ikazuchi, Age 18**

Blood spattered against tree bark and seeped down the trunk like warm molasses, and the body that was seizing with final moments of life in front of Shizuka finally stilled. The atmosphere dimmed, the electricity sizzled out of existence. It was an easy kill, one that took merely moments to complete. This one would be his lucky one hundredth, and he figured he could celebrate it by sitting down and smoking a cigarette with the man who could obviously not partake in sharing it.

Shizuka plopped down onto the moss, pulled a cigarette out of his bag and flicked his lighter, “Serves you Mist bastards right,” he said, and he puffed in victory. “You didn’t put up much of a fight, either. You must have wanted to go.” The body beside him remained still. “Here,” he joked, offering his smoke to his victim. He quickly pulled it back with an, “Oh wait!” and laughed a wheezy laugh to himself, very much amused by his own sense of twisted humour.

A sudden voice, however, stopped his moment instantly. “Wow. And I thought _I_ was fucked up.”

It was a woman’s voice, so it was definitely not his enemy somehow still managing to stay alive. Although, he thought, that would be a pretty interesting tactic. No, it came from the trees above him. A white-haired woman of about his age, eyes red and somehow glowing in the twilight, jumped down from the trees and in front of where he sat.

He instantly stood up in defense, tone cautious. “Who are you?”

She laughed. “Obviously someone who doesn’t want to pick a fight with you,” she said. “You’re sick. I like it.”

A bit of relief washed over Shizuka. He eased and sat himself back down, taking another drag. “Sick,” he repeated. “Yeah, I’d like to think so.”

The woman took a seat down next to him. “You’re all alone out here?”

“Been that way since I was 15,” he replied, “I don’t plan on changing it.”

“Why not?”

_Because I’m chaos._ No, he decided, he would not speak the truth just yet. Not to someone he didn’t know. He just hummed and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know anything else.”

“I was alone once,” the woman said. He looked over at her, but she was gazing somewhere off into a place he could not see. “Some of the worst years of my life. That is, until I found people like me. People who were outcasts from their villages, too strong or too weak to fit in anywhere. They keep me from feeling like I’m a bad person for choosing to live my life the way I want to, without any care for the consequences. Living in the moment. It’s all I dreamed of.”

“That sounds nice,” Shizuka muttered. And it did. He had always thought the same of himself— too violent, too unstable to fit in anywhere, even amongst other rogue ninja. He didn’t know people like him existed, even after three years of exile.

“Doesn’t it?” she continued. She turned and looked at him, “You should come with us. There’s only three of us right now, but I’ve a feeling we’ll be something much bigger someday. What’s your name, by the way?”

He considered it. In a way, it was kind of as though he could get two things he wanted: not being completely alone, and able to act however he happened to without any judgement. It would certainly be interesting to try. He didn’t see why not. “Shizuka,” he said, “and I’m up for it.”

The woman smiled at him, and there was something deliciously evil in that smile. “Excellent, nice to meet you Shizuka. My name is Nagaiyo. I have a feeling we’re going to be really good friends.”


	15. Chapter 15

When morning came around, Gaara found himself incredibly disappointed in the fact that he had not met with his mother— let alone dreamt— that night. He had avoided Lee all night for the purpose of asking more questions, and now that it was morning, he was expected to train with him after not speaking to him since he was in the hospital wing. It was going to be more than awkward, especially since they had to coverse in order to train. He didn’t know how to handle these things. _Some Kazekage,_ he thought. _Can’t even understand my own feelings._ What a damned situation he had gotten himself into.

As though on cue, there was a knocking at his door. “Good morning! I hope that you are well enough to want to train this morning!”

Gaara audibly groaned. Why did he have such a soft spot for him? “Yes, I am,” he responded. He slung each leg off the bed and searched for his clothes, a bit cold out of the blanket in naught but undergarments.

It was like the entire force of the world was against him, because the door clicked and then opened. Lee gasped at the sight of him, “Oh! I am extremely sorry for intruding!”

The Kazekage’s face flushed bright red. He felt himself start to sweat. “Pl-... Please close the door.”

Rock Lee did close the door, but he didn’t leave the room. This was not what Gaara wanted to happen. “Do not forget your gourd,” he said quietly, completely ignoring the fact that the other man was practically nude. “You will need it for the attack I have been planning.”

“Right,” Gaara huffed, beyond embarrassed. He quickly threw on his clothes and his gourd without looking at him. On a whim, he decided he had time enough today to ask some questions. “Could you knock first next time, please? I know you weren’t aware but I don’t like my privacy to be disturbed so suddenly.”

Oh no. That came out too cold. It was too harsh; he didn’t mean it like that. Gaara bit back the taste of regret and felt himself grow guilty as Lee stared at the ground, a bit taken aback with disappointment in himself. “I am so sorry,” he said, “I had assumed you were already dressed, please forgive me for being so disrespectful. I will not make that mistake again.”

Gaara merely opened the door and started to walk down the hallway, now mentally sulking. Why couldn’t he just out and say it? What was the matter with him? He truthfully didn’t even mind Lee being there— in fact, there was a part of him that found the moment thrilling. If only he were able to convey it. He just wanted Lee to understand.

When they arrived at their little clearing, Gaara went to put his gourd down, but was stopped. “No,” Lee said, tone firm and professional. It was unusual to hear. “You are going to need it this time. We will be combining an attack today.”

“Alright,” the sand shinobi replied. He refused to look at him. “What did you have in mind?”

Lee began stretching, staring ahead with determination and nothing more. Gaara stared as his muscles through his jumpsuit, quickly averting his eyes every time the other man seemed to sense it. “I will perform the Leaf Great Whirlwind around you, in unison with your Sand Coffin. I will highjack your sand, and it should result in your sand flowing in a spiral, and surge us both upward with it. I will kick, just as the move would usually have me do, and, in combat you will use your sand to grab the target and smash them into the ground. We’ll just do the first part today.”

Gaara felt the skin above his eyes raise in surprise; that was an incredible idea. It was genius. “Lee,” he said, awed, “That’s an amazing idea.”

“Thank you,” Lee responded. “If you’re ready to begin, please do not hesitate to tell me.”

Gaara prepared by inhaling and then exhaling deeply. “I’m ready.”

“Excellent.”

And so it began. Lee began circling him, faster than Gaara was able to keep up with, the dirt from the ground rising up. Gaara fed his sand into the earth to create the first step to the vortex before muttering, “Sand Coffin,” for the second step. He felt his feet begin to lift off the ground with his sand, barely catching a glimpse of Lee as the sand surged up, up, up into a sort of tornado around him. He wasn’t aware of anything other than the speed making him sick to his stomach, but it was manageable; it would certainly do a decent amount of damage to whoever was caught in it off guard. He was only aware of just how high in the air he was when Lee finally stopped. They were far above the trees now, but before gravity could pull them to the ground, Gaara quickly made sure he had more than enough chakra and activated his desert ascension technique so that they would be able to return to the ground unharmed.

“That was brilliant!” Lee exclaimed once they landed. “We shall call it, Leaf Sandstorm!”

“Leaf Sandstorm,” Gaara echoed. He smiled. The look of sheer happiness on Lee’s face— it was too much for his heart to take. The pride, the white teeth, the shining eyes. He couldn’t help himself. He surged forward without thinking and wrapped his arms around Lee’s neck in a hug, one that caught both of them off guard.

“G-Gaara-kun,” Lee stuttered. He was frozen still. _“Nani desu ka?”_

Gaara decided he would tell him. He had no other choice and certainly no way to explain his sudden behaviour. “I need to express something to you,” he said, “Lee, I-...”

As fate would have it, he did not get to finish his sentence. A loud _‘woosh,’_ came from the trees, and Gaara jumped back, defensively blocking several shuriken from hitting himself and Lee. When they dropped to the ground and the sand had cleared, there were two men standing in front of them: one of them, a slender silver-haired shinobi with eyes a piercing, glowing yellow. He had a very noticeable scar across his nose and part of his cheeks. He donned a burgundy coat the same exact colour as Gaara’s, but judging off of his appearance and how he held himself, he was no Suna shinobi. The other man looked completely different: he had darker skin, his hair deep purple hue flecked with a few forest green hairs here and there. His eyes were orange and unforgiving. A hoop hooked through the front of his nostrils. He was unlike anything Gaara had ever seen.

“Do forgive us for interrupting,” the grey-haired man said. His voice was like poison, silky and deadly to the ear. “But it seems our paths have been destined to connect for a long time. It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Kazekage Gaara. I am Shizuka.”

Destined to connect? What did he mean by that? Was he another Saibankan pawn? Gaara stood to his defenses, shooting a glance over at Lee before staring at his newfound opponent. “I take it you’re here to try and kill me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Shizuka laughed, “Not just you. Your friend here, your brother— well, a good chunk of you in repayment for killing three of our members. Consider it a debt to be paid.”

There were no more words exchanged. Gaara narrowed his eyes and prepared his attack in an instant. _“Rendan: Suna Shigure.”_ No sooner had the words left his lips did his sand fly out of his gourd and clot into small, hardened lumps, flying forward into Shizuka and his counterpart. The two were knocked down easily, with the latter seemingly more affected.

Shizuka climbed to his feet and quickly dodged the green flash that was Rock Lee heading straight towards him. He blocked a kick, ducked, and as he swerved away from each attack, he began forming hand seals. “Lightning Style: High Voltage Touch.” He leapt forward at Lee, who was very immaculate in each dodge, twisting and turning his body to avoid the chakra-turned-electricity in his hand. The leaf shinobi missed one beat, to Gaara’s horror, and was blasted backward, his body rigid as the shockwaves pulsed through his body.

“No, Lee!” Gaara yelled, but before he could run to his aid, a wave of sudden water crashed into him and swept him back toward the base. It had come from the purple-haired shinobi, he realised, but he could hardly move. The sand that had originally been summoned by Gaara to attack had grown wet in the contact of water. It was now extremely heavy, clumpy— virtually useless. Whoever had sent this combo did it specifically to take the two of them out. Water and Lightning, Gaara thought, What a horrible combination.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Shizuka stalked towards him, and oh no, Gaara realised the blue glow in his hands instantly. He had seen it before; by two shinobi who could not have possibly known him or taught him how to use it. He was in awe; the Saibankan member on his way to Gaara was wielding none other than the Chidori used by Kakashi Hatake and Sasuke Uchiha. He would not make it out of this.

Gaara’s eyes widened with fear as he felt his chakra, now weakening specifically under the weight of his wet sand. Shizuka drew closer and closer, the crackling of the Chidori in his hands getting louder and louder, until:

There was a large and sudden explosion from just metres away from where the other shinobi stood in waiting. It was so strong that it knocked him forward; a certain explosion that Gaara had only seen once before. “The Third Gate of Life: Open!”

Gaara stared into the green ball of light that was Rock Lee in the trees. He had already opened the first two without anyone noticing (and, the Kazekage noticed, without removing his weights). By now his entire body had changed, and once he seemingly vanished from his spot, the sand shinobi knew it was all but over for Shizuka. Lee was too fast for the eye to see. All that was visible was the Chidori fading out of existence and Shizuka being sent high into the air. The front lotus, Gaara noted, it was practically a battle already won.

Except it wasn’t. Lee had forgotten that Shizuka’s partner was still there, and before Gaara could somehow push himself out of his wet sand, the man had already done his seals. “Water Style: Water Shark Bomb!”

It hit both Shizuka and Lee and sent them back hurdling towards the ground. Gaara felt an oddly warm sensation run through him as a bit of dry sand flew from his gourd and formed a pile just sizeable for Lee to land on safely. While he was confused at first, as his sand was surely all wet and too heavy to protect anyone, he eventually realised the truth of the matter. It was his mother’s sand.

Shizuka was the first to stand, despite falling directly down and into the earth. How he wasn’t injured was beyond Gaara’s understanding. In sheer anger, he scowled and crept toward Lee.

“Earth Style: Mud Bullet!”

The voice that said it was neither Shizuka nor his partner. It was that of Ittan, who had arrived to the scene alongside Chōjūrō and Kankurō. The blast of mud was so dense that it blew Shizuka off of his feet and slammed him into a tree, which fell over on impact. It was a perfect blow.

While Ittan readied himself for another attack, Chōjūrō stared forward at Shizuka’s partner. “Kaito!” He shouted, “Is this what it’s come to?”

It should not have surprised Gaara that the water-style shinobi knew Chōjūrō. He assumed he was formerly a mist-nin. “Chōjūrō?” he responded, seemingly in shock. It was as if something had clicked in him. In a move that shocked Gaara, he turned to face his partner and began to form his seals, “This is over, Shizuka! Water Style: Ripping Torrent!”

The lightning style user was quick to block it with a shield of electricity that Gaara was positive he didn’t see him do any hand signs for. Ittan, however, was ready. “Earth Style: Uprooting Spike!”

Shizuka flipped up and danced between and away the stone pillars that shot through the ground at rapid speed. He was virtually unstoppable. Without words, a blast of black, lightning-infused chakra left his body in the shape of a large black panther. It charged forward and barreled straight into Ittan, and there was a bright flash— so bright in fact that Gaara thought he would be blinded by it. By the time it had faded, Shizuka was nowhere to be seen, and Ittan was lying still, flat on his back.

Gaara soon found that he had enough strength to force himself out of the sand and he ran at full speed towards his teammate, petrified, with Lee, Chōjūrō, and Kankuro following suit. When he reached him, Ittan was slowly losing consciousness it seemed; his eyes were dull. He coughed once, and blood stained his lips, “Gaara,” he wheezed, “Lee. I’ve failed you. I’ve failed my village.”

And Gaara realised, to his absolute and utter heartbreak, that Ittan— the man who never missed, the man who had turned full circle to achieve his goal of protecting the five villages— would not complete his mission. There would be no journey home for him. Gaara blinked tears out of sea foam eyes; in a way, he felt as though this were his fault, after all, it was his speech that changed Ittan’s future. “Ittan,” he choked out, “We’re going to get you to Karin. We aren’t going to let you go out like this. You’re not a failure. Just hold on—“

“I’m afraid it’s too late,” and the stone’s finest shinobi (and finest swimmer, as he had once told Lee) halted him, voice merely a breath. “Be brave... all of you. Don’t let this be for nothing. Please.”

“Ittan,” Gaara managed to say, and the man before him took his final breath. He was now completely rigid, and all flickers of life escaped him. Gaara liked to imagine his last breath was his soul, transcending into something greater. Of course, there would be nothing greater to him than to be surrounded by the people he most adored. How unfit for such a man to be so unfulfilled. How unfair to be far away from family and closest friends. For a shinobi as fine as Ittan, this was an absolutely unjust way to die.

And the Kazekage began to cry. Loud, horrible sobs left him as he stared up into the trees. All around him, in the throes of sorrow, it seemed as though his world began to fall apart.


End file.
